Charlie is a wild-born coyote who was unexpectedly delivered to my doorstep this past April after both his parents were shot for killing sheep. Whatever reservations I had about raising a wild animal simply didn't matter - couldn't matter - when I realized his survival, at least in the short term, depended on me.
At the time I write this, Charlie is nearly six months old. I don't think of him as "my pet," even though he sleeps curled against me every night (every night except the nights around a full moon), and happily rides in my truck, and adores my cat. I don't wish to own him, just to live together in harmony. And that we do.
The Daily Coyote
1 comment:
I want one. You know, keep the crackheads at bay.
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