My Pet Puppy

I’ve always loved animals.  We always had dogs and cats while I was growing up.  I also enjoyed catching horned toads, garter snakes, lizards, and various insects.  I especially loved rescuing baby birds that had fallen from their nest.  Boxes with baby birds, jars of tadpoles, and cages of hamsters often took up residence in my room.

            This love of animals extended to the ranch.  I was always hesitant to kill the wandering rattlesnake or the bunnies running through the chemise. As I got older, I realized that sometimes the population had to be thinned out to save a pasture, a stack of hay, or the spring calf crop, but I still kept most killing to a minimum.

            When I came back to work at the ranch for Dad, I was changed.   It was open  season on jackrabbits, prairie dogs, and coyotes.  Any of them stupid enough to cross my path ended up as worm food.  One animal, though, changed my mind.

            I was working at the Ouijee patching a hole in the drinker.  It was a tough job, and I was worn out. When lunch time rolled around, I ate half of my lunch and took a small siesta.  I was awakened by a rustling sound nearby.  I looked up to see a small,  scrawny coyote pup chowing down on my once nearly full bag of Doritos.  He looked as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. That year was part of an eight-year drought.  There were hardly any rabbits or prairie dogs for the coyotes.  We were selling cattle left and right because there wasn’t even any grass for the cattle. 

            I took pity on the little beggar and fed him my other sandwich.  He wouldn’t come close, so I tossed it to him and he gulped it down greedily.  This was the beginning of an interesting relationship.  The pup was extremely intelligent.  He never came out of the woods unless I honked the horn and stopped.  Then he would wait under a tree until I sat for lunch before loping up to me grinning from ear to ear.  He ate my leftovers, and I even brought him fish scraps from when I went fishing.  Soon, we could be found napping together under the shade of the pickup truck.  I tried to train him to ride in the back of the truck, but he was still too wild for that.

            He grew into a fine looking coyote.  He had the best groomed coat of any coyote on the ranch.  I started looking forward to going to work at the Hinkson just to see my little puppy!  Then he disappeared.  One day he didn’t come to my call.  I figured he found a lady friend or moved on.  Then I learned the … rest of the story (sorry, Paul Harvey).

            Our foreman, Shane, told me  they had been riding on the Hinkson ranch.  Shane always wore his pistol on his hip when he was riding, just in case.  He and the other cowboys had stopped for lunch and a siesta..  My little pup hadn’t seen me for a while and must have seen the cowboys drive up with the pickup and horse trailer.  They were napping under the shade of the trailer when the pup sneaked in and snuggled up to Shane for the siesta.

            Shane felt the nudge and looked down to see a full grown coyote nearly in his lap.  Like Wyatt Earp at the OK Corral, he leapt to his feet, shucked that pistol, and started firing shells at lightning quick speed.  The poor coyote never had a chance.  Poor Shane said his heart nearly stopped, and he didn’t realize what happened till later.  He was still confused until I told him the rest of the story (apologies to Paul Harvey, again).

            We had a few chuckles about the whole incident, and I learned a good lesson.  If you want a dog, stick with one from the pet store.  It’s a lot less work, and they don’t go scaring your fellow employees half to death!  I’ll always miss that little dog, however.  He’s the best dog I never owned.