Squirrel Loses His Tail, A Coyote Tale
Coyote rolled along the stretch of trail for the second time that afternoon. I was a favored place, a good hunting trail, though the search for food was not on his mind at the time. No, he was simply spinning for pleasure. It so happened that he was glancing at the ground at just the right moment and was sure that he noticed a... could it really have been? He circled back for another look.
"Well, I'll be..." Coyote thought.
He hadn't been mistaken about what caught his eye, hadn't imagined the original incident which had left "it" lying in the dust.
Coyote was always conflicted about his creation called squirrel. They were tasty and all, something he attributed to their healthy diet of nuts and berries, but beyond that they were contrary creatures - one moment all cute and cuddly balls of fur, and the next all taciturn and antagonistic. Never sure of themselves, crazy bastards.
Today, one had run across this path a good twenty-five feet ahead of him, startled into flight by Coyotes appearance. Twenty-four feet later the same squirrel, seemingly unconvinced that side of the trail was satisfactory to his safety suddenly bolted back across to the other side. Even though he was well aware of squirrels reputation, Coyote was surprised none-the-less. He was sure squirrel had been unable to completely avoid the front of his two-wheeled contraption, but when he turned his head there was nothing to be seen. Coyote waggled his head from side to side, "crazy bastards."
So, when Coyote rolled back along the trail for the second time that afternoon, he knew exactly what is was that caught his eye - a little bit of fur, just the tip of a bushy tail.
Coyote, had mostly ended his creating days long in the past, but he vowed that should he ever come across the recipe for making squirrel he was going to have to make a change.