Dear Neighborhood Coyotes,
Let this be a proper warning. STAY AWAY OR ELSE!
Yes, I take full responsibility for moving into your neighborhood. Much like the Native Americans, I recognize, and even hold in high regard, that you were here first and I invaded. However, if you please leave me alone, I, in turn, will gladly leave you alone.
But, this is not the case. Over the years, you have been a glutton dining on my goats and appear to have a relentless taste for chicken. Also supplementing your menu are neighborhood cats, dogs and sheep. Despite bunnies darting everywhere and their squished carcasses lining roadways, you have apparently lost your primitive taste for already tenderized hasenpfeffer.
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Do you see the above chicken? Her sister is missing and both were known as "Wild Things." Yes, these Golden Campions more resemble roadrunner/wild pheasant hybrids than chickens, but they were purchased to lay eggs to be sold and not bought for a coyote snack. Acting far from domesticated, their extreme nervousness always had them on the run. When surprised inside the coop, their panic-stricken neurosis had them explode and ricochet off the ceiling, upsetting the entire flock. And, every morning, they demonstrated their inner "wild-child" by flying out of the protected area while the less athletic, more domesticated chickens watched with envy.
Well, being the sly opportunist that you are, you snuck your fuzzy ass into the pasture and snatched one wayward Wild Thing. A tuft of tail feathers laying alone shows how your first snap was a near miss. However, an explosion of feathers decorating the ground near the closed gate was evidence of your kill.
Now, once again, you have crossed the line.
As a gentle reminder, here's the last coyote who discovered a fondness for chicken.
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A few more pelts just like it will make toasty-warm winter garments. Remember, I embrace the motto of "live and let live." Just leave me alone.
You've been warned.
Please Dine Elsewhere,
The Moustache
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