Coyote and Crow Ramblings....

Hi,

Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote was sitting on a moss
covered log in the shade of a large hemlock tree. He
was contemplating his purpose in life and just what it
meant to be a Coyote, living and wandering about
over Mother Earth.

Pretty soon Crow came along and saw Coyote sitting
on the moss covered log.

"What ya doing, Coyote?"

"I'm sitting on this mossy log contemplating my purpose
in life."

"Your purpose in life?"

"Yes, indeed, Crow."

"Why don't you content yourself with being a Coyote and
wander about the landscape?"

"Is it that simple?"

"Certainly. Look at me. I fly about the landscape, doing
Crow things. You're making life too complicated."

"Perhaps. But, I'm helping Laurie. You see, he's writing
this blog post. I'm simply sitting here, going along with
the word play...."

"Where is he, Coyote . . . I mean, this Laurie fella?"

"Oh, he's sitting by his computer, typing, I suppose."

"Hi Laurie! Does he hear me?"

"Oh yes, Crow, he hears you, alright. Look, why don't
you fly to Tim Horton's and get me a coffee?"

"Of course, Coyote. What do you want in your coffee?"

"Well, Crow, I'll take it black."

"Last night I was lucky, Coyote . . . I went to Tim's and
found half a cup of Expresso and two Timbits!"


Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote sat on that mossy log,
figuring his next move, when Crow returned.

"I hope you know it was difficult carrying this coffee in
my beak those eight miles."

"Oh, I suppose, but, isn't that what crows do . . . you
know, carry things about the landscape?"

"I know what you're saying . . . that's the only reason
I could do it." Then, Crow said, "And, look, I stopped
at MacDonald's and got you three french fries!"

How on earth did you manage to carry both the coffee
and french fries?"

"Oh, I swallowed the french fries, and regurgitated
them just for you."

"What?"

"I regurgitated the french fries for you, Coyote."

"Thank you, Crow. I truly appreciate what you've
done, but I can't stomach regurgitated food. I just
can't seem to appreciate the process."

"Very well, Coyote. To be truthful, I do want them
for myself. I love ketchup!"

"Yes, well, don't make a mess on the mossy log."

"Oh no, Coyote, no, I'll just hang out in this hemlock
tree. Oh, by the way, did you roll up the rim?"

"What?"

"Well, Coyote, where have you been all this time? If
you roll up the rim on a Tim's coffee cup, you can
win a prize!"

"By gad, Crow, you're smart today. Look, look, I've
won a . . . a . . . chocolate chip cookie!"

"Way to go, Ol' Man Coyote!"

"Will you go for the cookie, Crow? I'll give you a bite
of it."

"Well, you know, Coyote, that's sixteen miles return,
as I fly . . . er, as the crow flies. That a lot of miles
for a bite of cookie."

"Can't you steal a cookie for yourself? The cops would
never catch you, Crow."

"Well, you do have a point. Besides, there's a waitress
there, with a nice set of . . . well . . . I do like
hovering above her....

"Ah, c'mon Crow, say it! Breasts! Breasts! Well, don't
stare at me with your beak open . . . I won't say it a
third time."

"Now, Coyote, you're not polite. . ."

"Well, as you say, I am a Coyote. . . . Besides, the
coffee's pretty strong. Geez, I do wish I had a drink of
tequila. I think I left my jugs in the southwest."

"Ah yes, 'jugs,' Coyote . . . that's what I was trying
to say...."

"What?"

"You know, the waitress. . . ."

"Well, then, go and bring back my chocolate chip cookie.
I'm dying for chocolate right about now."


Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, sat on that mossy log,
thinking about tequila and mescal, when Crow returned.

"Look, Coyote, I've got two chocolate chip cookies!"

"You did well, Crow . What did you do, steal the second
cookie?"

"Oh no, Coyote . . . I think that waitress likes me. I kept
hovering above her and she gave me two cookies. She thinks
I'm cute, Coyote!"

"Well, Crow, since you got my cookie, I have to say that,
yes, I imagine someone, somewhere, would think you're
cute."

"Oh, I almost forgot. . . she's wearing black lingerie. You
know how I love black things, Coyote!"

"Have you considered moving your nest to a light pole,
next to Tim Horton's? I really think you should move there,
Crow."

"Listen, Coyote, is Laurie writing this down? I mean, will
someone read this stuff?"

"Of course, Crow. Now, perhaps you could fly to the liquor
store and get me a bottle of mescal. I have a friend who
works there. I think she'll give it to you. If you're lucky,
she'll put it on her own tab."

"Really! My gad, Coyote, you do have friends!"

"Of course, Crow. I also have a womanfriend who makes
cinnamon rolls. Do you enjoy cinnamon rolls, Crow?

"Oh, you gotta love cinnamon anything, Coyote!"

"Well, perhaps you'll fly to Halifax tomorrow and bring me
back one of her fresh baked rolls. You can always stop
for coffee along the way. It's only about one hundred and
twenty miles, return, as you fly."

"That's a long way to fly for a cinnamon roll, Coyote."

"Yes, I suppose. . . .

"So, anyhow, Coyote, about the black lingerie. . ."

"Wait. Wait Crow. We really have to save that for another
day . . . save that for the mescal, the tequila, the
sunshine, and the like.

Very well, Coyote. It is rather overcast now, and the night
is approaching fast. Have a good day, Coyote."

"Have a good day, Crow.

Have a good day,
LaurieC