Canis Interruptus

[Ed. note: Over the past year my neighborhood has experienced a significant rise in coyote activity. They are audacious critters, as my unfortunate neighbors and their cat discovered one afternoon.]

A napping cat, cat-napped, wrenched
roughly from its sunny, back-porch
slumber to sate the mid-day munchies
of a sandy, panting, lone coyote.

At my feet, on the end of a drooping
leash, lies my own softly snoring,
snack-sized pup and I wonder

how the wild and the tame
converged in this chessboard of cool
white condos and golf-course greens.

Did he catch her scent on the breeze
as he patrolled the fourteenth hole?
Or did he wait, sheltered
in that shady stand of silent pines
guarding kitty’s sleepy haven?

Was he stealthy and smooth
as he crept in closer? Or did he launch
himself with a yelp, a lawn dart
with an appetite? Lucky kitty

never woke from her furry,
toy-chasing,
string-swatting,
Sunday dreams. She never knew
what bit her.

Because I post here, I don’t really have anything to post here. I might try someday anyway. . I don’t accept notes, but that doesn’t mean you can’t comment.