Chapter 5

Later that week they found an old burrow that had belonged to a fox based upon the smell of it. They moved in and cleaned up the place, then cleaned it some more. The fox had left some nuts and a dried piece of meat.

Remy wondered what other kinds of dogs were around in the woods. He thought about the noises he’d heard at night.

Fixing up the den occupied their time, and Remy was glad to have something to do. He remembered their mother telling them that when they saw a strange dog to always be wary. She said that, surprisingly, not all dogs were nice. Sometimes, she said, certain dogs could be your worst enemy and were downright vicious.

Then she told them about the dogs that only looked like dogs. She said there were foxes, which were usually harmless, unless you were a chicken farmer. She said there were plenty of foxes around in the woods, and they loved chicken eggs. She said that foxes were smaller than Aussies, and usually pretty shy. At the opposite end of the spectrum were wolves. She said that without reservation those were the biggest, baddest dogs out there and that they’d eat anything, no matter its size, even if they weren’t hungry. She said luckily there weren’t any around in their part of the country.

Then she said there were coyotes. Size-wise they were much bigger than a fox, but much smaller than a wolf. She said that though there weren’t many coyotes around their area, they had a way of turning up like a bad penny.

She said years ago a coyote had come by the farm and stayed a little too long. She said the Old Man shot at him, then swore up and down about how he’d been invaded by the devil’s own dog. His anger turned to hatred. The Old Man went so far as to put out poison in the far fields, which only succeeded in killing some deer and other wildlife, but no coyotes. It took the Old Man several weeks to simmer down, but he clearly hated coyotes and would always hate coyotes. Even though she didn’t like the Old Man, she said he wasn’t unique in this regard and that many ranchers and farmers hated coyotes.

She said that before all that had happened she’d gone into the farthest part of the pasture where the deep pond was. Through the tall grass walked the coyote. And he walked straight towards her. He seemed to know she’d be there. His eyes glowed greenish-brown in the afternoon sun. She said the color of his eyes was something she’d never forget.

She said that the coyote seemed to be the perfect gentleman. He knew a lot about the world, and he shared many stories with her. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to go anywhere. She already knew that the Old Man would take a dim view of a coyote hanging around, but hang around the coyote did. She found it oddly comforting that the coyote smiled as much as he did. She thought he was smiling just because of her.

Remy noticed how sweet his mother’s face looked when she talked about the coyote. She saw Remy looking at her. She suddenly realized that she’d been gushing. She changed tact. All she wanted was to provide Remy the needed information to help him protect himself.

“The thing about coyotes, though, is that you never know what you’re going to get. They’re cunning. They’re tricksters and pranksters. They can seem sweet, and sometimes they are … but you never really know with coyotes. They’re fickle and can change moods as quickly as the wind changes course. One minute it’s all grins, next all teeth. At the bottom of it, a coyote is a wild dog just like any other wild dog. Nothing more, nothing less.”

For the next few weeks, Remy and Baux played among the tombstones and fallen trees. They found a trashcan close to the church. People would throw bags into it, and in those bags would sometimes be bits of food. They figured out that Sundays, after church, was a good time to check. One time, they found some ribs. But one time they found a raccoon in there. He was obviously annoyed, so they beat a hasty retreat.

They’d go down to the creek to catch frogs but found that to be a difficult and unfulfilling exercise. Plus there wasn’t a lot of meat on those frogs. One time while at the creek, Baux got into a fight with a water moccasin. Baux had no idea what he’d done, but the snake was clearly upset with him. It was five feet long and aggressive to the point that he chased Baux from one side of the stream to the other.

Remy put a quick end to it when he yanked Baux from the water. “Leave the snake alone, Baux.”

“But – ”

That’s how they spent their days.

At night, they’d curl up together in the burrow, trying to stay warm and safe.

It was at night that they heard the noises of things and sometimes those noises were very close.

Every night, they kept hearing something … familiar. Remy finally figured it out: it was a four-legged animal’s footsteps. But it was the footsteps of something trying to be very, very stealthy, something that didn’t want to be heard.

Was it a friend, or was it a foe?