Sitting early this morning on the deck, drinking coffee and working through the last draft of our book proposal (Intimate Fences — one of the posters we analyze is titled “Commotion Among the Animals”), we hear a sudden rustling in the oak brush. A coyote bursts out of the brush, followed closely by a doe. She chases the coyote across the meadow and into more brush. They appear in the next meadow, the doe’s neck stretched out like a greyhound’s in hot pursuit.
A few minutes later she appears again in our meadow, squats to pee, looks up at Blue who is watching intently through the rail, moves away nervously, returns. We retreat from the deck to ease her mind. She watches us leave and then, for long minutes — maybe ten minutes — surveys the door we have disappeared behind.
Her twin fawns are somewhere near, we suppose, and she’s on high alert.
Fifteen minutes later she disappears, back into the brush.
And the coyote?