Life In A Time of Corona: Coyote and How He Shrieks...(intermission post 1)

Mom has developed a “thing.” It’s a Thing About Coyotes. They Freak her Out. Most Majorly.

Moyo says Mom, There is just Something in the Shriek of a Coyote that fair stops the blood in one’s veins. It’s like listening to a Great Teeming of Stark, Raving, SHRIEKING Mad Things as they Gather in The Gloom and Titter Hysterically About The Damages, Big and Small, They Are About To Wreak.

She could have just said Moyo? Do you know that Coyotes Scare the Bejeesus Out of Me.

But, No. She had to take the Periphrasis Route.

Typical.

Now, Mom’s CoyoteAngst is such that she spots them everywhere. It’s as if the Entire Universe of Coyote has Congregated INSIDE her head, hellbent upon Besetting and Beleaguering. What this Also means is that Mom is Convinced that Coyote has Dastardly Plans to Make A Meal of me, Moyo.

Mom spotted this Out Of The Corner Of Her Coyote Nervous Eye. And Immediately Panicked. Hey??!!! That Looks JUST like a Cunning Coyote, Faking Death at a waterhole. So it can Lull Me and Lure Me.

(Seriously??? Coyote are coming out of the woodworks around here....

Wait! Did you see what Mom did there?? Huh?? Did you?.... “coming out of the WOODworks....SIGH!! She found herself Hysterically Funny with that!)

All Of Which means that I’m on A Short Leash. But only at night. For whatever reason Mom is only Truly Freaked Out by The Coyote at night. Maybe because that’s when they do that Shrieky Thing. Which Freaks Her Out. If they would stop that Shriek, Mom would probably want to ADOPT them and make me Share My Food with them.

Which goes to say that I’m okay with them Shrieking.

In Fact? I don’t even open my eyes at the Coyote Shriek. Mom says That’s Completely Unnatural, Moyo. How is it that the History of Wolf that hurtles through your genetic memory does not move you to lift an ear in the General Direction of Coyote, at the very least? It certainly Lifts My Ears, Moyo... and I’m not even Remotely Related!

I didn’t even lift an ear in HER general direction when she said that. The Hurtling Wolf in me, Moyo, knows when Just So Much Bloody Silly Nonsense is Being Spoken.

Also? Coyote Shmoyote.....!!

Me, Moyo. Sleeping on my Special Bed in our little TTQ lounge that Dad made for Mom. (Trailer Trash Queen... and there will be more on TTQ to follow.)

Anyway. All this CoyoteAngst had Mom put this out on a Group Chat a Few Nights Ago... when Coyote was In Full Throat and Freezing Mom’s Blood....(and because we are in Chilliwack, British Columbia it was addressed to the Good People of...) (and when Mom has finished with Intermissioning, she’ll get right into The How We Got To Be In Chilliwack.)

”So. Chilliwackians/Canadians.... educate a South African, would you? I’m sitting on the little sofa I’ve made out of the backseat of a car (Look. If one is going to be Trailer Trash, one simply must commit to it, ok?! 😜)... Moyo at my feet. It’s time to take her out “there into the dark”... and the sodding coyotes are kicking up a huuuuuge rumpus. Now, they’re probably rumpussing a million miles away, but it SOUNDS  right there.... there where I need to walk Moyo... So? Should I arm myself with a massive stick? A searchlight? Hand grenades? Heeeelllp!!! 😜 (Seriously, though. That sound is full on unnerving!! And I don’t run so fast in daylight when I can see.... nightlight is bound to be either a) me running into stuff ( you know that stuff that is just always there, in the dark) or b) me falling in the mud I know is also out there... or c)running right into a giant gang/ pride/ litter/ murder of coyotes....I’ve slept right through a pride of lion munching on some poor ex-zebra RIGHT next to my tent, I’ve had a bath with a leopard watching me intently through the full length glass of the bathroom door... also a big-arse baboon ...but these little buggers scare the crap out of me!!!)”

Mom‘s Mad Coyote Drawings. Illustrations From The Depths of Her AddledBrainCoyoteHell. And here is a picture of said baboon...

What The Good People of Chilliwack did in response was a) find Mom’s Mortal Terror entertaining, b) take great pains to tell stories of How Coyote Will Lure You and Lull You... then Eat You, c) provide photographic evidence of the Ghastly Countenance of Coyote ( also some newspaper stories about point b!!!) and d) suggested the employ of Bells. And/or Singing. Loudly.

Excellent. Thank you, GPOC....All that did was Encourage Mom To Greater Heights. And that not least with regards SINGING. At which she never was much good, to begin with.

But now she tells us all to Shut Up if we Complain or Look Pained when she sings. She says WTF, you lot??? I’m not Singing For Fun!! Im Doing Warding Off Coyote Magick Chants. Gratitude is What is Required. Not your Complaining.

And then she Carries On. It’s Bloody awful. And Enough to Make Hurtling Wolf Blood want to bite her face off...or, at the very least, pee on her foot.

Someone should tell her that she begins to sound Decidedly Coyote. She better not Come Crying To me, Moyo if her Coyotewauling lures in gadzillions of the Sneaky Little Fuckers...

This is a painting Mom has just done. It’s about Coyote. She calls it Full Moon Fulcrum/Coyote

And here. This is a Close-Up of Coyote. And Yes. Yes, Mom is CoyoteBeFok. Shame!