Predator

Casey and I had just sat down to watch a movie last night when I looked out the window and noticed movement in the trees across the yard, on the other side of the fence. It didn't look like a deer, which we are accustomed to seeing out there, so I looked carefully to try and identify the source of the movement. All I saw was a dark gray to almost black blob at first - hard to tell the color exactly due to the light and shadows of the setting sun - until it raised it's head and I knew I was looking at either a large coyote or a wolf. The neighbors have seen coyotes in their driveway recently, so I'm guessing that's what it was.

I never got a better look, however, since the initial sighting set off an instant flurry of activity as we realized the chickens were still out and roaming freely about the garden and the woods. We both jumped up, Casey to get some corn or kitchen scraps - the standard bribe to lure the birds back into the confines of the pen - and I to slip on my shoes and go out to hurriedly start shooing them towards the gate, my eye always on the Osama rooster, prepared for him to lunge at me in defense of his harem. We got the birds in unscathed in short order, and the predator did not reappear across the yard all evening.

So the excitement for the evening ended and we returned to our movie, which wasn't nearly as entertaining as the coyote.

Today is Mother's Day, a bit of an odd one in light of the fact that we both lost ours since last we celebrated this day. It is also my Dad's birthday, so a call is in order a bit later. In addition, this is one of Casey's periodic weekends off work completely, so we are avoiding church this morning. Our plan is to drive to Zim, to Byrn's Greenhouse, for our annual bedding plant shopping excursion. A crazy sort of weekend altogether.