Tails From the Farm

Where the Wild Things Roam

It finally happened. What I’ve waited decades to see finally showed itself, or rather, themselves. But here I am, getting ahead of myself … again. I should start at the beginning, sort of.
Way back, when hubby and I first bought our farm, it was a ramshackle sort of place, rather dilapidated and in need of a good deal of work. Work is something we weren’t afraid of doing. Mess was cleaned up, essential repairs were made to the house and outbuildings, and a good deal of fence was put up. Over the years, all sorts of changes were made to buildings, fences and the yard as well. Against my vehement complaints and protests, hubby put in a driveway that cut across our beautiful, side lawn. As upset as I was by the brutal cut across lovely, green grass back then, I’ve grown used to it. It’s actually become part of the scenery, and I have to admit, really, really handy. It wanders away from the main driveway in a lovely arc even with the house. The things, the critters I’ve seen walking in our driveway then up that road over the years, has been amazing. There have been countless horses that came to visit over the years. The sound of clip-clopping hooves, merrily trotting in then by the house, woke me from sleep on many beautiful nights. On with the pants and top, to run out and catch said horse of horses, before they stirred up the stallions, and out into the dark I would go. I don’t know why horses always seem to choose night to do their visiting, but that’s when it generally happened.
There were several that visited. Old Lacy the quarter horse, made regular visits, as did Lancelot and Bambino, which was amazing, as Bambino as blind as could be. We’ve had deer of all ages and genders stop by, and there was the year of the cougar as well. One cold, winter’s night, our dog threw a particularly intense fit of barking to get our attention. On the edge of the driveway not far from the house were three Malamute Huskies, at least that’s what I initially thought. Throwing on my housecoat and slipping bare feet into winter boots, I went out to make sure they weren’t going to tear apart Mayhem, our dog. It took a few seconds for me to realize that I was looking at Timber wolves, not dogs. They weren’t easy to convince that it was better to move on than hang around either. Seriously, what about a lunatic jumping up and down in a red housecoat, while waving her arms, wouldn’t scare off the fiercest wolf? They even ignored the snowballs I threw at them. Apparently, I wasn’t a very formidable foe.
Of course, there are the many stray and dumped off cats, the occasional dog and adorable, little foxes, but coyotes have eluded me. Sure, I’ve seen them out in the field in the daylight, yet never at night. I’ve never seen that pack of coyotes that sound so eerily wild at night. The sounds of howls thrilling us at night, has never materialized into animals trotting up our driveway, at least not when I’ve glanced out the window. Finally, after all these years, and at a most fitting time, as this is the time of year that we moved in so many decades ago, I got to see them. I was watching a cheesy Christmas movie, my third in a row, sheesh, and it was the wee hours of the morning. Bagheera the cat suddenly jumped onto the back of my chair to look out the window, tail whipping back and forth with intensity, so I looked, too. There they were two, beautiful, furry coyotes. Wary, as cautious as all get out, they were contemplating coming near the house. As that extremely concerned cat and I watched, one ventured forwards, while the other stayed put and remained tentative. Finally, I got to see the animals that made those tracks in the snow, and they were amazing.
After a while, the coyote that had hung back, decided to venture forth as well. Instead of following in the tracks of its mate, it left the driveway and walked right in front of the house. What a truly amazing animal to get to see. After all the years I waited, it was worth it. Now I want to see them again, maybe tonight, if I’m lucky.

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