Followed a banner running on Dland, and ended up browsing through the archives of Freed0m. And had to have a giggle at her entry about her fear of coyotes.

Giggling not at her fear or her entry, mind you, since urban coyotes just might like a taste of one of her little dogs if she let her guard down, but at a memory her entry brought.

Years ago, and I no longer remember how many. The last day of deer season, and I hadn't gotten around to killing one yet, much less even hunting. So, an hour or so before sunset, and the end of the season for the year, I decide to actually quit working for a while and hunt. I'm not choosy, and you can usually find a few deer, and maybe a small buck, in the sand dunes down by the reservoir.

A place where most folks wouldn't even think of looking.

Park the rig in a depression in the sage and rabbitbrush covered sand hills, and start walking. About half the ground covered with an inch or so of fresh, wet snow. Perfect hunting weather.

And the deer are there, a small band of less than a dozen.

And a little buck.

But they're all on alert, bunched up tight, watching something off to my right. I easily slide up to the crest of a dune unnoticed, lie on my belly and watch through the rifle scope, waiting for them to break up and give me a shot at the buck.

And they don't. All eyes and ears are intensely watching something to my right.

Finally, whatever had their interest is gone, and you can see the ears relax a little, and a few begin to shift from their neighbors. I settle my elbows in the sand, and get ready.

And get this funny feeling. Not scary or anything, just a thought comes to mind that here, seconds before the climax of my hunt, I should turn around and look over my shoulder.

So I do.

And there, sniffing at my right heel, is a coyote.

Who is instantly more freaked out than I, lets out a little scared yip and hightails it, literally, away through the sage.

I remember laughing then, and now again this afternoon. I imagine that hungry coyote wandering through the sage, hoping to spook up a rabbit, and lo and behold, here's a whole human that someone dumped out. And having never eaten one before, a coyote would have to wonder, "Is it any good?"

Looking back, I remember the hunt well, and the rear view of that panicked coyote, but I have no idea if I shot a deer that evening.

And just another little thought that came to mind for no reason as I wrote that all down.

I forgot to mention... at the retirment party last weekend, the wife and I got to visit with the game warden who wrote what is probably our state's first citation for operating a snowmobile without a life preserver.

And we found out the name of the guilty party.

The son of the father/son mechanic team where we take all our vehicles. The ones who still tease youngest son about going snorkeling in his Subaru.

Oh, joy.

Next time they ask about his snorkeling car, we're gonna ask if they've installed the life jacket in their snowmobile yet.

Can't wait.