All the deer and antelope playing were chased away by coyotes here. Apparently.
Monday evening was much cooler than it had been for several days before, so I had the office window open to let some fresh air in. Checking my email late before closing the window and shuffling off to bed, I hear what sounds like a puppy howl right behind the house. Type, type, typing away, I notice a few more odd sounds and wonder if someone’s cat has found its way to the field along with its mate.
Within a few moments, I swear, I was listening to the most horrible high-pitched howls imaginable piercing the air. Coyotes! At LEAST 5 or 6. Maybe a bajillion! I looked out the window, but of course, darkness is the sum total of everything I could see. It is rural property in the Ville, after all. I AM still a teensy tiny bit country girl, so I stick my fingers in my mouth and let loose an impressive (and amazingly loud) whistle. With my city-girl hand, I’m calling my Mom at the same time. By the time she answers, the howling/shrieks have stopped…I guess that whistle did the trick (mental note in case I’m ever surrounded by a pack of scavengers), but she explains that they’ve heard the coyotes too.
My heart still beating fast, I piddle around for about 30 more minutes because I couldn’t sleep now anyway, and Libby has to go out to pee. Are you kidding me? Wondering if she could possibly hold it until daylight, I ignore her. But then, I think about other people who didn’t hear the beasts and how vulnerable dogs and kids and everything else would be outside after dark and realize this is sort of like a zombie invasion.
This is what it looked like before the zombies arrived…
