Being Coyote

My aunt has been helping my father finish an auto-biography he is self-publishing. Part of the work has involved going through the bulletins he sent to his extended family (green carbons )  every few weeks or months. She recently stumbled across the following paragraph, written about myself when I was seven years old. Knowing as she does, my Coyote persona, she forwarded it to me.

Monday evening the 16th, we celebrated my birthday.  The greatest present was a “plaque” from [my-name], done a while back but really great!  The execution was by hammering a screwdriver with the hammer to make a design, on a piece of clapboard.  The design –– his own, and colored appropriately with watercolors, shows a wolf (or coyote) trotting along a hilly skyline of brown desert, trying to reach a lower right-hand-corner water-hole, escorted by circling buzzards who don’t think he’ll make it to the water-hole, while the sun is going down behind the hills!

It was a coyote, I remember making it, and I believe I even saw it the last time I was at the house. Apparently my interest in Coyote dates back further than I thought!