Homeopathic Coyote

When I think about house pets and domestic animals in general I think about how I felt as a child growing up around cats, and dogs …I think about how mean I was to cats and how after witnessing the frustration and anger that crappy, seemingly un-trainable cats and kittens brought upon my parents and then eventually to my entire household, It makes sense to me that as a young adult I really had no affinity, affection or appreciation for the little furry critters. Over the years, regardless of my disdain and overall antipathy with them, I somehow managed to acquire them as packages or baggage-like amendments to live-in girlfriends and roommates and over the years, if I really relly think about it and try to isolate the good memories of cats or scenarios where cats brought some version of joy into my life there are more than I expected but certainly not enough to flip the coin.
Since I’ve been married and have had children, my remote appreciation and acceptance has grown – largely due to the fact that my children love them but also because in early 1998, I allowed my lovely wife to convince me that we needed one. Sure, I was hesitant but also willing to give it a try. To make a very long prelude a bit shorter, this newest cat (Tia) was like a pivotal benchmark in my life on many levels. I consciously chose to let go of the irritability and hateful attitude toward cats in general and took on a wholly new perspective as this cat became closer and closer to me and my wife. She (Tia) behaved more like a Hollywood dog than any cat if id ever known. I spoke to her in what I like to believe was a good mix between what you might expect to hear if Elmo was speaking Arabic to small orphan children and how my the entire hygienist staff of the my kids pediatric dentist office speak when preaching the importance of brushing your gums.

In any case this cat was amazing. She never had a litter box – which had been a major factor in the “no cats allowed” position I took for years. She would squawk at the door until one of us got up and let her outside to do her thing. Even when we lived in Colorado, in the dead of the winter, she would dutifully, pounce across the drifts of snow out into the dark night to find her little zone. Never in the house which meant the obvious and also that meant that every walk-able surface of my house wasn’t covered with invisible fecal bacteria etc..etc… So after, witnessing the births of my 3 kids, almost 11 years later , four different states, and an amazing track record of just being the best damn cat around, …she disappeared one day. We had just moved into a new home 3 weeks earlier and after the typical “keep the cats indoors for a few days to adjust” régime, we let them out into the new yard to explore and do what they love to do. Everything was cool for about 2 weeks then one night she just didn’t come home. As her disappearance set in and the posters we didn’t take down were fluttering in the wind from the telephone poles around our neighborhood, for the first time in my life I felt really distraught and saddened about a pet. A neighbor was chatting with my wife weeks later and the topic of her disappearance arose. She exclaimed that the neighborhood was riddled with Coyote and that no one in the hood ever left their cats out all night anymore and that if you did, you would basically be inviting the Coyotes to an easy low cost buffet. It goes without saying that I was as disturbed with this news as my wife and have since been thinking of what a royal meal with coyote as the center of plate protein might look like. Who eats coyote anyway? Eating canine has a certain nauseating twitch to it but nevertheless im sure that at some point, the little shysters have taken some lead and wound up on a kebab right? So, if my theory stands tall and true, here is the plan. I take a seat in the corner of my backyard, dressed in military camo (which I don’t own), with laser guided rifle ( which I don’t own), some vintage night vision goggles, ( I may have these) and I sit and wait,….just sit and wait till one emerges from the woods and begins sniffing around for the t-bone bait. With an unobstructed sightline and a clean shot, ill come out blastin like Yosemite sam take the beast down, field dress it a la minute, and butcher it into roastables, grindables and such. From this wild coyote, ill prepare a lovely braise, rich with wine, and herbs. The idea is to prepare some ravioli, and using the braised Coyote as filling, ill make enough to invite 40 or 50 friends from the neighborhood to a Decatur meets Italy dinner party. Unknowingly, a good percentage of folks that live within 2000 feet of my house will ingest my very special coyote creation and by doing so - much like how homeopathy works, the collective spreading out of the coyote will ward them ( the Coyotes not my guests) off and magically send them to another hood where they are not part of the active food web. While this may sound obscene to most, I assure you that as a “primi” course, the raviolis will be flanked by fabulous courses, great wines and the best ingredients I can commandeer. All this for my long lost little “tia” you say?...”Well, yes”…I Reply. “Yes” RSVP ASAP