For the next three nights things were quiet and peaceful. Poky wouldn’t talk to me. Red stayed pretty much to himself. He wouldn’t come through the hole under the fence, and when I went to see him, he said the same thing Poky had: “You should have helped. I tried, but I’m too old and weak. They were going to bite me, too. You should have helped us.”
Then he curled up in his house and wouldn’t talk to me, either.
On the fourth night, the coyotes howled.
They were far off in the desert, but this time I could understand them. They howled about how hard life was and how they’d always been poor and hungry. They howled for the rabbits or any other animals to come out of their burrows. Because, as the coyotes put it, “You owe it to us! We won’t hurt you. We’ll just eat you. We deserve to be fed.”
They howled about how there was no justice in the world and how unfair it was for dogs and cats and people and horses and sheep to have homes and barns to sleep in, while coyotes had to sleep in a hole in the ground.
And they howled and howled and howled.
The next night they came back. This time there were six of them.
Poky didn’t try to fight them. Instead, he shot through the hole in the fence and hid behind my doghouse.
I went to Poky’s yard to investigate. The big coyote with sharp white fangs met me.
I tried to talk with him. I offered to share my food with him. He only called me a big coward and told me to get lost.
It was a cold night. When the coyotes finished eating what was left of Poky’s food, three of them curled up and went to sleep in his doghouse. I went back to my house and invited Poky to come inside and sleep with me. Poky didn’t even answer. He stayed behind my house, pouting.
The coyotes came again the next night. This time, they came right after dark. They got there before Poky had a chance to eat any of the food his master had set out for him. They spent the whole evening sleeping in his doghouse while Poky shivered in the cold.
They came back the next night, too. This time, instead of six, there were eight.
Three of them ate Poky’s food and slept in his doghouse. The other five jumped over the back fence of Red’s yard.
When Red called for help, Poky just thumped his tail on the ground. “He wouldn’t help me,” Poky huffed. “Said he was too old and sore. Darned if I’ll help him.”
“He is old, Poky. It’s not his fault.”
Poky just ignored me, so I went to see if there was anything I could do. I crouched down at the hole and stuck my head under the fence. Two coyotes stood there. One of them snapped at my nose. I jerked my head back. The coyote’s teeth missed my snout by only inches. When I offered to share my food with them, they just laughed and called me a coward and told me to get lost.
Red tried to fight, but he was old and weak. It wasn’t long before he came tearing under the fence.
“Why didn’t you help me fight them?” he asked, puffing and panting and all out of breath. “You should have helped.”
Red went to the back of my doghouse. I followed, my ears dragging on the ground. Poky wouldn’t have anything to do with Red or me. He slept in the middle of the yard.
After two days, my friends got hungry. We shared my food, and for three more nights the coyotes slept in Poky’s and Red’s houses and ate their food. They always came just after sundown and left before our people woke up in the morning. That way our masters never saw them.
One bowl of dog food wasn’t much for three dogs. I ate very little. I didn’t want my friends to be hungry. My insides felt empty. At night my tummy would growl. It growled so loud that it echoed in my doghouse and woke me. I didn’t mind, though. I couldn’t let my friends go hungry, and . . . I couldn’t chase the coyotes away. I just couldn’t bite.
The next night, the coyotes came back. This time there were ten.
Two coyotes went to Poky’s yard. They ate his food and went to sleep in his house. Two went to Red’s yard. They ate his food and slept in his house. The others crept through the holes on either side of my yard.
We had just started eating when they got there.
“He is big,” one of the coyotes whispered as they crept closer to me.
“Yeah,” answered the largest coyote, who I figured was the leader. “But he’s nothing but a big coward. Come on.”
Poky and Red tried to gobble down as much food as they could. They were very, very hungry. Bravely I turned to face the coyotes alone. I walked toward them.
“I am not a coward,” I protested. “I don’t bite because I want to be your friend.”
The biggest coyote smiled. It looked more like a sneer. “See?” he told his friend. “What did I tell you?”
“Yeah,” the smaller coyote said. “But he sure is big. I wonder how big he is?”
The leader pranced right up beside me. He told his friend to jump on his back. Standing, one on top of the other, the two coyotes came up to my shoulders.
I stood and watched them. “Why have you come? What do you want here?”
The coyote on top licked his lips. “Two bowls of dog food isn’t enough for ten coyotes. We’re still hungry. We want more.”
While they were talking, the other four coyotes sneaked around behind me and chased Red and Poky away from my bowl. The coyotes started to eat.
“I’m sorry you’re hungry,” I said. “But if you eat Red’s food and Poky’s food and my food, then what will we have to eat?”
“That’s your problem.” The coyote on bottom laughed.
“But we’ll starve,” I said.
“So?”
“So that’s not right.”
The coyote on top jumped down. “It’s right for us. We take what we want. You dogs got a lot. You got plenty of food and nice houses to sleep in. We got nothin’. We want what you got. We deserve it.”
“Deserve it? Why?”
The big coyote moved up beside me. With his shoulder, he shoved me out of the way.
“We’ve been poor for a long, long time—that’s why! We eat rabbits and mice and lizards and berries. We even have to eat cactus sometimes, and garbage from the trash pile. We deserve better, and we’re going to take it.”
With that, he shoved me again. I staggered sideways and watched the two coyotes join their friends at my bowl.
For the next two nights we slept in my yard. The second night was terribly cold, and for the first time in a long, long while we huddled together for warmth.