The coyote flew so high into the sky that he almost seemed to touch the silver-white moon. Then he came crashing down.

There was a loud clank from the other side of the fence. We moved closer and peeked through the cracks between the boards. The big coyote had landed in a trash can. There was more clanking and rattling as the coyote struggled to get out. The trash can finally tipped over. Covered with lettuce, sour milk, used tissues, and all sorts of stinky, yucky stuff, the big coyote came crawling out.

If he’d had his tail, he would have tucked it under him. As it was, he tucked his bottom and went slinking off into the desert. I knew we’d never see the coyotes, ever again.