Coyote Hanging--not our Thing

Last weekend we got to go to the country again. The weather was perfect, the creeks were up and the fall wildflowers were gorgeous. Maverick came with his big dogs, Chigurh and Sir Walter, which made it just perfect. Except for one thing:

Along the fence line of the adjoining ranch, we saw a row of coyotes strung up by their heels. Back in the day people used to do that with “varmints.” But Chica and I had never seen such an abomination until recently when a rancher did the hanging thing several miles down the road.

Now don’t get me wrong. I have no doubt that a coyote would see me and Chica as a comestible, not a cousin. Yet truth be told we’re pretty close kin. I must say it’s really creepy to see a fellow canine hung upside down rotting on a fence. The irony is that studies show that females have larger litters when such exterminations occur. So not only is the practice cruel, it’s futile.

On a happier note, six ladies—two of them new to the group—walked in Brackenridge Park today. The weather was perfect and there was nary a carcass to be seen.

Living the Sweet Life

The ladies skipped the Monday walk since it was Columbus Day. Which, given that it turned mighty cold in Sunday, was probably just as well.

On Saturday, the weather was close to perfect in the country— sunny and coolish with a soft breeze. Chica and I had a glorious walk in Hondo Creek, which had a welcome trickle of water. Mary captured a turtle at the low water crossing and let it go while we were wading.

Chica, who as far as I know had never seen one before, was fascinated and followed it all the way to the shore, where it pushed under a rock overhang.

I preferred to sniff out all the intriguing smells of the country while Lewis and Chica wandered about. Before it was time to go back to the car and home, Lewis took a photo of Mary sitting on a rock by the cliff, holding the two of us. It captured one of those serendipitous moments in time that make life so very sweet.