Ah, the joy of sweet success. As you’ll recall, last week I recounted how a persistent, even arrogant coyote wuz stalking my little chicken flock. I predicted that the coyote would soon make a fatal mistake.
Well, I’m happy to say that my prediction came true within a few hours of when I finished last week’s column. That evening about 7 p.m. when it’s time to gather the eggs, shut up the flock, and feed and water my bird dog Mandy, I heard Mandy raising Cain in her kennel and I saw a few chickens running for cover under the kennel.
I immediately headed that way in my UTV with .22-rifle at my side. When I arrived, Mr. Bold Coyote wuz peeking around the corner of my hen house and evaluating his chances of dashing into the hen house and grabbing a fresh, feathered supper.
When he saw me drive up, Mr. Coyote unhurriedly strolled behind the hen house. That’s when I loaded the .22-rifle (it’s a single shot, bolt action), and peered around the corner. I saw no coyote. So, I took another few careful steps, and all of a sudden Mr. Coyote sprang from behind another nearby building and dashed straightaway from me toward our apple trees.
That’s when I got lucky. With only a going-away shot, and with such a mini-caliber rifle, without thinking, I popped off the only shot available and, whoa, much to my surprise, Mr. Coyote dropped stone dead like he’d been hit with a bazooka.
It wuz pure luck and I readily admit it. Couldn’t do it again in 100 tries. As an aside, when I looked the coyote over, I discovered he wuz coming down with a massive case of the mange. I suspect that’s why he wuz so persistent to kill a chicken. Now a second aside, I figgered I neutralized Mr. Coyote before he could kill a chicken. Wrong! Further inspection found a pile of fresh black feathers south of the chicken house. So, he wuz looking for second helpings when the end came. Oh, well, I’ll trade a chicken for a coyote any day of the year.
This comes from ol’ Jay Esse, Lakewood, Colo.: A beautiful young lady, driving an expensive pickup truck and pulling an expensive horse trailer, pulled up to the horse show admission gate and wuz greeted by a young cowboy taking entries.
Making conversation, the cowboy smiled and told the lady brightly, “Sure is nice a rig you’re pulling, ma’am.”
“Yes, it is. Henry gave it to me, but it came with a curse,” the lady replied.
Unfazed, the young cowboy continued, “Those are beautiful sparklers you have around your neck and on your hand, ma’am.”
“Yes, they are. Henry gave them to me, but they came with a curse, too,” the lady replied tersely.
“Well, ma’am,” continued the young cowboy flatteringly, “I couldn’t help but notice you’re wearing about the prettiest cowgirl boots and hat that I’ve been privileged to see.”
“Thank you, Henry gave them to me and they also came with a curse,” the lady replied curtly.
“Where’s your horse ranch located?” the young cowboy persisted.
“One hundred miles south. Nice big spread Henry bought for me. But, it’s cursed, too,” the lady continued.
Curiosity finally got the best of the young cowboy and he bluntly asked, “Ma’am, what’s this curse you’ve been talking about?”
Equally bluntly, the lady blurted, “Henry!”
I have a very low opinion about deceptive commercial advertising and packaging. Nevah went shopping in a newly opened supermarket in Emporia and bought some nice apples. She reported that the sign on the apple display said, “97-cents a pound, 10% more at cash register.” And, they were!
Based on that kind of deceptive adverting, I’ve got eggs for sale for 50-cents per dozen in the nest — triple that at the house.”
The horrific killing spree in Las Vegas at an outdoor country music show happened this morning. As of this writing, nearly sixty persons are dead and more than 500 hospitalized. Those numbers seem sure to grow in the next few days. Early on, the evil perpetuator seems to be an “Average Joe” in suburbia.
I have not a clue what can make any person become a terrorist and mass murderer of innocent persons. It’s beyond my comprehension to fathom up any reason or excuse for such loss of compassion for humanity.
Folks, I despair for what our country is coming to. I hate to get up in the morning and turn on the news because usually it’s only bad or fake news.
From what I see, we’re becoming a nation of division, not unity; a nation of coarseness, not reasoned discourse; a nation of intolerance, not tolerance; a “me/self” nation, not a “we/together” nation; a nation of small thinkers, not big thinkers, a nation of the uneducated educated, and finally a splintered, rudderless nation with fading morality, not a purposeful united nation guided by a strong, universal moral compass.
I’ll close for the week with this somber quote from the late writer H. L. Mencken: “Morality is doing right, no matter what you are told.” Have a good ‘un.