Tag: Coyote

Hyacinthe (Again)

Last week I wrote about Samuel, the grand old man of our local coyote pack. This week, Hyacinthe, who (interestingly) first entered out lives about the same time Samuel did.

Wild raccoons have shorter lifespans than coyote and, being open to the Universe, I appreciate this is probably her last season with us.

I’ve often wondered where The Wild go to pass.

Is there a Raccoon Graveyard somewhere in the woods behind our house I’ve never found?

When Samuel walks the Blue Path, will I find his trail marks in the grass and come upon him deeply sleeping never to wake in this world again?

Our world shrinks…exponentially? Definitely geometrically. Humans have affected the environment far more than via an arithmetic progression, me thinks.

As our world shrinks, so does theirs, only more so.

Human – Two-Legs – extinct species only slightly quicker than we extinct ourselves.

And here in the first quarter of the 21st century, I’ve noticed we’re damn good at it.

 

Samuel (Again)

And finally, the patriarch of our local clan, Samuel. Samuel visits us fairly often and usually remains offscreen, as noted in Feasting Raccoons and an Offscreen Samuel and More Feasting Raccoons and Samuel Still Offscreen.

Samuel’s been with us for several years now. In the ways of Coyote, he’s a grand old man.

Which saddens me. Us. More me than us.

Canis has been my friend since childhood. I see our current OverLord, Boo, aging and know he, like all things good and bad, will be no more. In this reality, anyway.

We use to keep things alive through stories around a campfire, drawings on cave walls, StoryTellers and StoryKeepers, Traveling Minstrels, Town Criers, through print and now to what can be held in the palm of one’s hand.

But not quite.

I shake my head when I see people with their mobiles practically glued to their palms.

What can be so important?

And many people, especially more now than ever before, have little to no inner lives.

I remember listening to a writer offer she wasn’t introspective at all when asked a question regarding her thoughts on something.

My first thought was “No wonder your characters are so shallow.”

I will mourn when Samuel passes. When Boo passes.

And I wonder, who will mourn my passing? Susan’s?

Will the Universe slow for a moment? Will the stars dim?

No.

Except for those in true friends’ hearts.

 

A Lovely Couple

Sometimes we are blessed to witness love on the bloom.

Not all couples stay faithful throughout their lives in The Wild. Some, like the Raccoon, don’t stay faithful for more than the time it takes to get the deed done.

Talk about “Slam, Bam, Thankyou, Ma’am.”

I wonder if they leave a peanut or cookie on the bureau when they leave.

Canids tend to mate for life.

We worried greatly when Jackson, a young male coyote, showed up with a limp. Not sure what happened. We looked for signs of a broken bone or a twisted joint or scarring.

Couldn’t find a thing.

He eventually grew out of it. Shortly after he was out trotting normally, we never saw him again.

Moved on to better habitat, we’re hoping.

Coyotes are never out of season where we live.

Same is true of ignorance and simple stupidity, it seems.

 

More Feasting Raccoons and Samuel Still Offscreen

Picking up where we left off last week…

Kind of sounds like the lead in to one of those old movie serials, doesn’t it? “In our previous episode, our hero stood on the brink of the abyss and realized looking into an abyss was much pleasanter than looking into an abscess.”

Anyway…

The raccoons continue feasting and Samuel continues patiently waiting.

As does The Wild, always.

Ever noticed an Old One in a hurry? Rushing through traffic? Trying to beat the light? Anxious to get to the next meeting? Checking its watch? Fearful all the good stuff will be gone by the time it gets to the store? Afraid it’ll miss out on the sale?

I haven’t either.

Hmm…

 

Feasting Raccoons and an Offscreen Samuel

Things return to (what is for us) normal.

We’re so glad for that.

The raccoons are making their return, coyote (in this case, Samuel), is patiently waiting in the wings.

Actually he’s not waiting patiently and it’s obvious he’d appreciate my going back inside.

Which means I’ll stay out to make sure the raccoons have their fill (they rarely do), then bring out something for Sam.

He lets me call him “Sam.”

He allows me to call him “Sam.” I’m not sure if he’s happy about it or just tolerates my Two-Legged ignorance.

It’s documented in many places that The Wild accepts Two-Leggers into itself, under provision, of course.

It wouldn’t do to have children running rampant and free, you know, where their ignorance may cause them difficulties.

And we, Two-Leggers, are the children.

Remember that.

The Wild, the Old Ones, have been around lots longer than us.

Several native peoples worldwide tell stories of learning how to survive from The Old Ones. In some cases, by marrying into their societies. There was a time when The Wild and Two-Leggers spoke the same language.

We still do.

But you have to listen.