Went for a walk this morning and Peaches got attacked by two coyotes. We were coming back down the hill by Barros’ and Peaches took off out across the desert to avoid a house where the dogs are rather aggressive. About two minutes later, here comes Peaches back to the road about fifty yards ahead of us, and right on her heels is a big, rangy coyote and another one about ten yards behind. We, of course, started yelling, but they were not deterred and soon Peaches disappeared around a bend in the road with both coyotes in hot pursuit. Kathy took off running and screaming and I guarded the back trail (I was in my slippers, okay?). The noise and the excitement brought out Chuck Van Horn from his horse arena and he and I had the following exchange:
“They’re getting real nasty,” Chuck says, shaking his head.
“Brazen, really,” I say, walking past, hoping he doesn’t notice my fluffy slippers.
“Got any guns down at your house?”
“Yes. A Winchester and a Colt .45.”
“Well, if you need any help...”
“I think we can handle it, but thanks.”
“Maybe they’re riled up because they saw those slippers.”

“Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you fall into an open sewer and die.”
—Mel Brooks