Them dogs don't hunt

But certainly not from lack of trying.

This morning I decided to start running again because a) my hamstring tendon just barely hurt, and b) the Black Death-sinus infection-fork in the ear thing I have going on might possibly be loosening it's iron grip.

So I headed up the trail with the three bullies. I was in front and saw the coyote just before they did. It was just a few yards up the trail. How weird that it was a mostly black with maybe a little dark brown. Maybe it is a sign, and black is the new gray this fall, but I had never seen one that color before.

Neither had the dogs, apparently. They rushed the coyote so they could get a closer look and commend him on his cutting edge fashion sense. Or eat him for breakfast. Not sure.

But it turned and did that peculiar skippy-hop run that they have going on, and disappeared into the woods. All three bullies crashed in after it. No stealth involved.

I waited on the trail and listened for a few moments before doing what any red-blooded, mountain dwelling, hunter's wife would; I began yip-yipping, whoop-whooping to call it in.

I don't mean to brag here, but my husband is both proud and a little envious of my coyote calling skillz.

He has seen me call coyotes in (actually I think they are coming closer to see what kind of lunatic is making all that racket, but, whatever. They come in.) and has lavished me with praise. Varmint calling ability is clearly Rod's love language.

A few moments later, the dark coyote popped back on the trail, looking around see who had been trying to have a convo with him. When he saw it was just me, he turned and did his little hoppy-skippy run in the opposite direction.

Meanwhile, our brave hunters were making the biggest ruckus our woods have witnessed in a long while. When they finally burst from the trees, mouths wide and panting happily, the coyote was gone. They were so two thousand late.

But from the simple looks on their grinning, slobbering faces, they had forgotten what they had been chasing anyway.

Nope. These dogs can't hunt. They can't even find a squirrel in my closet. We'll be working on that today.