MORE ACCESIBLE SNACKS

Mankind has spent an inordinate effort in insulating itself from creatures with bigger claws and fangs than itself. Which is why I'm alwasy so pleased when I encounter a coyote in the Nob Hill and Russian Hill neighborhood. The coyote takes our hubris, and raises it two. For a few of my fellow humans it must be so refreshing when they realize that if not us, at least our chihuahuas are the tempting and more accessible snack. And that coyotes provide a useful service. Eventually both us and the coyotes will live in a quieter and saner world.

Thank you, coyotes! You have been gracious!

Some of the people I like actually have pet chihuahuas. Which seems almost inconceivable, until you understand that both of those individuals are engaged in the vending of alcoholic beverages to the public, when everything clicks into place. I myself do not sell booze, so I wonder what kind of animal I should have as a companion. A duck or a goose, possibly.

I cannot imagine anything more unpleasant than following a vicious pet chihuahua around the darkened streets and alleyways of these hills at six in the morning with a little plastic baggy for the disposables the horrid beast deposits.<

It would be a sad affliction, bravely born. Because not picking up the little turd (the fewmet, not the animal) would leave clues to local coyotes that something edible was afoot. Some helpless little yappy shit (the creature, not the dropping) which was warm and juicy, and regularly richly nourished by the stupid bipeds.

How much better to ambulate along the crest with a pipe filled with lovely tobacco, enjoying the glorious sunrise over the distant East Bay Hills.

The first dawn glimmerings are at roughly quarter to seven at this time of year. Which is when the bowl of Cornell & Diehl Small Batch Carolina Red Flake w/Perique (anno 2023) is hitting its stride, the effect of that first cup of coffee has reached fullness, and the ache in the right shoulder from too much scribbling over the weekend compounded by sleeping on my side is starting to lessen a bit. There is a freshness in the air, the chihuahua is now over a block away though I can still hear it angrily growling and yipping -- probably constipated, at least I hope so -- and a local streetperson twitches under a dull red coverlet.

The coyote trotted past on the other side of the street and looked at me.
I told it that the chihuahua was that way, just one or two blocks.
It seemed to nod understandingly and continued along.


Continue on your noble quest, oh paladin.



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