LJ Idol Season 8 Week 3 - Doin' the Things That Coyotes Will
o/` "Coyote goes to the mountain top
looks over down at the river, says "What a drop"
No tame dog is gonna take my bone" o/`
-- "Coyote" performed by Velvet Underground
With apologies and appropriate credit to Ursula LeGuin and her short story, Buffalo Gals.
If you've never had a trickster as your totem, thank your lucky stars. It's hard enough in modern society to explain that you have an animal's soul bound forever with your own; you can just forget about any logical explanation for some of the lunacy sharing your head with a trickster will promote. Such happens to be the case with me and Coyote. That said, there are some things that are just better heard from the mouth of the beast as it were so I am going to let her tell her own tale.
*****
Something cold and wet pressed against the inside of Dorie's thigh. Rolling the blankets more closely around her, she squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to ignore it. A snuffling sound followed by a tickling sensation replaced the coldness. A rough tongue slurped its way around her bellybutton; when that did not achieve the desired result, namely Dorie's complete attention, whatever it was pounced and landed heavily with its paws on her chest. Dorie peeled open an eye and found herself staring into the green-gold eyes and sharp muzzle of a predator. "YEAAAGGGGH!" She shot backward, fetching up against the headboard. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Coyote?" she demanded. "You just about scared the shit right out of me."
Looking smugly pleased with herself, Coyote sat back on her haunches and dropped her jaw in a feral grin. "Lazy," she chided. "Sun's already up. Time to go!" She capered about on the bed, nearly squashing Dorie in her enthusiasm. "Go for a ride, go for a ride, I get to go for a ride!"
"Quit it! Let me think, I haven't even had my coffee yet."
"On the nightstand," Coyote, the soul of helpfulness, replied.
Grumbling, Dorie lifted the cup and took a sip of the potent black brew. "You do know, don't you, that you're going to the vet?"
"Don't care," Coyote said, wagging. Her great brushy tail knocked everything but the lamp from the nightstand. "Go for a ride, I get to go for a ride!"
"You'll change your mind later," Dorie predicted. Having finished her coffee, she began her morning routine: wash face, brush teeth, put in contacts.... Coyote, twining in and out around her feet with one of Dorie's shoes in her mouth, nearly tripped her three times but she managed to get dressed without major mishap. At the door, she gook a leash and collar off a wooden peg.
"No! I won't wear it!" Coyote backpedaled until she hit linoleum then skidded butt first into the corner beside the refrigerator.
"You can't go unless you do," Dorie said firmly. "Look, I'll tie a pretty bandanna around your neck to hide if you'll cooperate."
"Awww...." She capitulated with bad grace and pouted until the two of them reached the hardtop. Dorie rolled the window down and Coyote stuck her head out the window, tongue lolling, as she sniffed the early morning breezes. By the time they arrived the veterinarian's office her fur was in wild disarray and nose running freely but in a happier frame of mind. Dorie wiped the snot and drool off Coyote's muzzle and took her inside. For some reason, they never had to wait long before being seen. Dorie secretly suspected it had something to do with the manner in which Coyote either thoroughly marked whatever she could find as hers or the fact that she had, on previous visits, destroyed an entire exam room in less than ten minutes but the staff never mentioned either possibility to her. This visit went according to routine, including Coyote's not-so-friendly attempt to take off the veterinarian's arm.
"You're getting slow and fat," Dr. James chided her as, without missing a beat, he swiftly neutralized the sharp teeth with a bright purple muzzle. Shake her head as she might, Coyote could not dislodge it. "Behave or I'll give you a shot."
"Awp, not my butt!" Coyote contemplated the offending appendage and then decided it needed a good chewing to keep it in line but she couldn't do anything with that muzzle on. "Waaaahhhh....you don't play fair!"
"Speaking of not playing fair...." He explained the nature of the 'other' tests he wanted ordered.
Though almost everyone knows exactly what is in that large white bag when you carry it from the doctor's office, most people pretend they do not. For some weird reason, bodily eliminations are considered taboo. Dorie, her face flaming, tried to ignore the contents of her burden as she carried it back to the pick-up. Coyote, on the other hand, appeared ecstatic. "Happy Halloween!" she chirped. "Trick or treat, I'm a biohazzard!"
"That's absolutely disgusting," Dorie told her as they headed for the grocery store next.
"I can crap wherever I want," Coyote murmured dreamily. "Doctor's orders, and you have to scoop my poop!"
"Lovely," Dorie muttered and kept driving.
As they pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot, Coyote let a noisy, noxious fart. "Nooo," she wailed as Dorie frantically rolled the windows down, "my fart-children!"
"Your what?"
"I'm no longer speaking to you. You've just let my poor little farts loose in the Wal-Mart parking lot." Coyote sniffled and tried to look pathetic. "My dear children, lost and alone in Middleburg. Roll the window back up," she suggested hopefully. "Maybe they didn't all escape."
"No, no, no. Absolutely not! We are not under any circumstances saving your farts! Bad enough I have to scoop your poop and then take it to the lab."
"Take it?"
"You didn't think we were going to keep it, did you?" Dorie shook her head, exasperated. "You did. No, they go to the lab for an analysis. You'll never see them again. Especially," she snarled, "if I have anything to say about it."
Coyote woman sat back on her haunches and refused to go any further. "You can't DO that," she shouted. "Those are MY turds! No one else can have my turds! I think...I think it's in the Bible. 'Thou shalt not violate the sanctity of the 'yote's litter box' or something like that. Yeah, so you got to obey or your God will strike you DEAD!"
Dorie tugged on the leash. "C'mon, we'll discuss this later. Let's go get some groceries. I'll buy you a new sausage-friend and some cheese," she cajoled.
"Well...I suppose." She sniffed mournfully one last time, hoping to catch a whiff of her farts. Her ears wilted. "Poor little fart, all alone and lost. Mama loves you!" she called before allowing Dorie to lead her into the store.
The grocery shopping done with relatively little commotion (Dorie had had to pry Coyote out of the meat case twice and had ended up paying for a fine cut of steak which hadn't even made it to the grocery cart), they headed toward home. Coyote sat quietly for once, her front paws wrapped around a one pound Hickory Farms summer sausage. "Twine," she said, glancing hopefully at Dorie.
"What?"
"You've got twine in your crafting stuff, don't you?"
"I do," Dorie responded with a suspicious glance at her canine companion, "but what do you want with it?"
"Well," Coyote said thoughtfully, "if I had some twine, I could stick it up my butt. When the farts come out, they'd be on a leash and they wouldn't get lost or abandoned." She glared at her human companion. "Poor little farts, abandoned and alone!"
Dorie rolled her eyes. "You can't walk a fart, hon. They're gases and there's no way to tie a gas to a solid object even if I would let you shove a ball of twine up your ass."
"I could!" she insisted. "They would just follow the twine out and then they could follow it back to the truck at least." She paused, considering the ramifications. "Maybe tether it to the truck's door handle. I don't really want my farts back inside. They hurt after a while," she said practically.
"I did not need to know that. Could we change the subject? Hey, why not play with that roll of toilet paper? You always wanted to unravel one, now's your chance to do so."
Coyote considered the small roll for a moment. "Hey, I could make a toilet paper kite!" She rolled the window all the way down and prepared to fly her 'kite' from the cardboard spindle as it unraveled. Unfortunately, the seventy mile per hour wind generated by their travel whipped the spindle out of her paws. "AWP! It's gone!" Observing the toilet paper still trailing merrily in the breeze, she changed tactics. "Whee, I got me a turd-kite!"
"Carry on," sighed Dorie. She knew there was absolutely no way she could convince Coyote to do anything else and hoped that the state patrol didn't decide to stop them. Living with Coyote was difficult enough; explaining, when most others simply saw an overweight human, was worse.
Illustration drawn by pshaw_raven
looks over down at the river, says "What a drop"
No tame dog is gonna take my bone" o/`
-- "Coyote" performed by Velvet Underground
With apologies and appropriate credit to Ursula LeGuin and her short story, Buffalo Gals.
If you've never had a trickster as your totem, thank your lucky stars. It's hard enough in modern society to explain that you have an animal's soul bound forever with your own; you can just forget about any logical explanation for some of the lunacy sharing your head with a trickster will promote. Such happens to be the case with me and Coyote. That said, there are some things that are just better heard from the mouth of the beast as it were so I am going to let her tell her own tale.
*****
Something cold and wet pressed against the inside of Dorie's thigh. Rolling the blankets more closely around her, she squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to ignore it. A snuffling sound followed by a tickling sensation replaced the coldness. A rough tongue slurped its way around her bellybutton; when that did not achieve the desired result, namely Dorie's complete attention, whatever it was pounced and landed heavily with its paws on her chest. Dorie peeled open an eye and found herself staring into the green-gold eyes and sharp muzzle of a predator. "YEAAAGGGGH!" She shot backward, fetching up against the headboard. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Coyote?" she demanded. "You just about scared the shit right out of me."
Looking smugly pleased with herself, Coyote sat back on her haunches and dropped her jaw in a feral grin. "Lazy," she chided. "Sun's already up. Time to go!" She capered about on the bed, nearly squashing Dorie in her enthusiasm. "Go for a ride, go for a ride, I get to go for a ride!"
"Quit it! Let me think, I haven't even had my coffee yet."
"On the nightstand," Coyote, the soul of helpfulness, replied.
Grumbling, Dorie lifted the cup and took a sip of the potent black brew. "You do know, don't you, that you're going to the vet?"
"Don't care," Coyote said, wagging. Her great brushy tail knocked everything but the lamp from the nightstand. "Go for a ride, I get to go for a ride!"
"You'll change your mind later," Dorie predicted. Having finished her coffee, she began her morning routine: wash face, brush teeth, put in contacts.... Coyote, twining in and out around her feet with one of Dorie's shoes in her mouth, nearly tripped her three times but she managed to get dressed without major mishap. At the door, she gook a leash and collar off a wooden peg.
"No! I won't wear it!" Coyote backpedaled until she hit linoleum then skidded butt first into the corner beside the refrigerator.
"You can't go unless you do," Dorie said firmly. "Look, I'll tie a pretty bandanna around your neck to hide if you'll cooperate."
"Awww...." She capitulated with bad grace and pouted until the two of them reached the hardtop. Dorie rolled the window down and Coyote stuck her head out the window, tongue lolling, as she sniffed the early morning breezes. By the time they arrived the veterinarian's office her fur was in wild disarray and nose running freely but in a happier frame of mind. Dorie wiped the snot and drool off Coyote's muzzle and took her inside. For some reason, they never had to wait long before being seen. Dorie secretly suspected it had something to do with the manner in which Coyote either thoroughly marked whatever she could find as hers or the fact that she had, on previous visits, destroyed an entire exam room in less than ten minutes but the staff never mentioned either possibility to her. This visit went according to routine, including Coyote's not-so-friendly attempt to take off the veterinarian's arm.
"You're getting slow and fat," Dr. James chided her as, without missing a beat, he swiftly neutralized the sharp teeth with a bright purple muzzle. Shake her head as she might, Coyote could not dislodge it. "Behave or I'll give you a shot."
"Awp, not my butt!" Coyote contemplated the offending appendage and then decided it needed a good chewing to keep it in line but she couldn't do anything with that muzzle on. "Waaaahhhh....you don't play fair!"
"Speaking of not playing fair...." He explained the nature of the 'other' tests he wanted ordered.
Though almost everyone knows exactly what is in that large white bag when you carry it from the doctor's office, most people pretend they do not. For some weird reason, bodily eliminations are considered taboo. Dorie, her face flaming, tried to ignore the contents of her burden as she carried it back to the pick-up. Coyote, on the other hand, appeared ecstatic. "Happy Halloween!" she chirped. "Trick or treat, I'm a biohazzard!"
"That's absolutely disgusting," Dorie told her as they headed for the grocery store next.
"I can crap wherever I want," Coyote murmured dreamily. "Doctor's orders, and you have to scoop my poop!"
"Lovely," Dorie muttered and kept driving.
As they pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot, Coyote let a noisy, noxious fart. "Nooo," she wailed as Dorie frantically rolled the windows down, "my fart-children!"
"Your what?"
"I'm no longer speaking to you. You've just let my poor little farts loose in the Wal-Mart parking lot." Coyote sniffled and tried to look pathetic. "My dear children, lost and alone in Middleburg. Roll the window back up," she suggested hopefully. "Maybe they didn't all escape."
"No, no, no. Absolutely not! We are not under any circumstances saving your farts! Bad enough I have to scoop your poop and then take it to the lab."
"Take it?"
"You didn't think we were going to keep it, did you?" Dorie shook her head, exasperated. "You did. No, they go to the lab for an analysis. You'll never see them again. Especially," she snarled, "if I have anything to say about it."
Coyote woman sat back on her haunches and refused to go any further. "You can't DO that," she shouted. "Those are MY turds! No one else can have my turds! I think...I think it's in the Bible. 'Thou shalt not violate the sanctity of the 'yote's litter box' or something like that. Yeah, so you got to obey or your God will strike you DEAD!"
Dorie tugged on the leash. "C'mon, we'll discuss this later. Let's go get some groceries. I'll buy you a new sausage-friend and some cheese," she cajoled.
"Well...I suppose." She sniffed mournfully one last time, hoping to catch a whiff of her farts. Her ears wilted. "Poor little fart, all alone and lost. Mama loves you!" she called before allowing Dorie to lead her into the store.
The grocery shopping done with relatively little commotion (Dorie had had to pry Coyote out of the meat case twice and had ended up paying for a fine cut of steak which hadn't even made it to the grocery cart), they headed toward home. Coyote sat quietly for once, her front paws wrapped around a one pound Hickory Farms summer sausage. "Twine," she said, glancing hopefully at Dorie.
"What?"
"You've got twine in your crafting stuff, don't you?"
"I do," Dorie responded with a suspicious glance at her canine companion, "but what do you want with it?"
"Well," Coyote said thoughtfully, "if I had some twine, I could stick it up my butt. When the farts come out, they'd be on a leash and they wouldn't get lost or abandoned." She glared at her human companion. "Poor little farts, abandoned and alone!"
Dorie rolled her eyes. "You can't walk a fart, hon. They're gases and there's no way to tie a gas to a solid object even if I would let you shove a ball of twine up your ass."
"I could!" she insisted. "They would just follow the twine out and then they could follow it back to the truck at least." She paused, considering the ramifications. "Maybe tether it to the truck's door handle. I don't really want my farts back inside. They hurt after a while," she said practically.
"I did not need to know that. Could we change the subject? Hey, why not play with that roll of toilet paper? You always wanted to unravel one, now's your chance to do so."
Coyote considered the small roll for a moment. "Hey, I could make a toilet paper kite!" She rolled the window all the way down and prepared to fly her 'kite' from the cardboard spindle as it unraveled. Unfortunately, the seventy mile per hour wind generated by their travel whipped the spindle out of her paws. "AWP! It's gone!" Observing the toilet paper still trailing merrily in the breeze, she changed tactics. "Whee, I got me a turd-kite!"
"Carry on," sighed Dorie. She knew there was absolutely no way she could convince Coyote to do anything else and hoped that the state patrol didn't decide to stop them. Living with Coyote was difficult enough; explaining, when most others simply saw an overweight human, was worse.
Illustration drawn by pshaw_raven