Well, I suppose if worn to the symphony, it might make for interesting food-chain-oriented conversation with the mink-stole-wearing crowd.
Well, I suppose if worn to the symphony, it might make for interesting food-chain-oriented conversation with the mink-stole-wearing crowd.
As i am one who is guilty too often with suggesting that the environment was better 50 years ago than now for the most part; i do not miss the drives across the west wherein i saw way too many coyotes in the winds from the top lines of barbed-wire fences. There they hung waiting for the Fed and State agents to drive by, pick them up, and pay off the rancher/farmer’s bounty due for the killing. All that comes crashing back on me seeing this.
I’m transfixed by the notion that “A perfect gift… is a pink cow tail” (from the same page).
On the coyote… one of my more vivid and lasting childhood memories is of the time we were camping in the Arizona Strip country, and came across a cabin whose backyard was literally nothing but piles and piles and piles of coyote bones. It was horrifying.
Ew. How hideous.