If it weren’t for the big cats, the spiders, the rattlers, the various predatory… and when I think about it, regular non-predatory birds… I’d be tempted to say the wild critter I love most is Brother Coyote.
But that’s when I don’t pause to think of those others individually. Old Cuervo (Brother Raven) is hard to beat if you let your mind wander to him.
Frustrating. I began this blog post to talk about Brother Coyote and why I love him and somehow find myself having to tip my hat to ravens and rattlers and bob-cats and owls and blue birds and spiders.
How’s a man supposed to get anything said about one thing when his mind gets all clogged up with all those others dancing out of the wings wearing clown suits, somersaulting and tooting horns trying for some attention?
Dragging myself back to the issue at hand. Brother Coyote’s maybe the critter out there that’s most like man. Intelligent enough to have you shaking your head out of respect. Loves himself, loves being a coyote. Never wants to be something else, knows everything else was put here for his amusement, and frequently, for his destruction.
I suppose that’s the long and short of it. Why, I’ve studied Brother Coyote and often seen him studying me, seen his sign and his track behind a bush where he was sitting, tongue lolling, laughing as I stumbled noise-making through life.
But if I try to say more this will get too long for the attention spans of you readers. I’ll save the stuff I planned to tell you about Brother Coyote for another entry or three sometime later.
Meanwhile, the moon’s full this pre-dawn. Pause and have a look-see for a moment. When you do, know it’s another thing you share with Brother Coyote. He loves that moon same as you do.
And if he could get to it to destroy it, he’d do that, also. Same as you.
by Bob McDill, sung by Don Edwards
Coyotes soon learn
Becoming trap-wise in time
from Poems of the New Old West, NineLives Press, copyright 2004