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Knee Deep Coyote

by M.A. Plaggemars


          This story is about two months old. Last week I received a pelt back from the tanner that reminded me to write about it. It was January 4th and we had a load of snow. I run a regular delivery route that lets me cover up to two hundred miles a day. Some where between drops I thought I would check a few back roads for tracks. The snow being as deep as it was the fox and coyotes had not been moving much. Next to a favorite turkey barn this coyote track just jumped out at me.

          Like always, I had to check it out. He happened to be moving north into a good friend of mine property. His wife has had us under strict orders to kill that danged coyote that made her dogs bark at night. This particular coyote had quite a reputation on this farm. Well I was under orders, so I called a friend to see if we could gather a few guys to see if we couldn’t jump this rascal. He showed up twenty long minutes later, but could not raise any other help. We agreed that I make a loop to make sure this dude was in fact where we guessed him to be. My friend set up on the east crossing smack dab between two standing cornfields.

          It had been quite a few years since the need for snowshoes in these parts, but just like a bike, it will come back to you. I made the loop and it seemed as if the coyote was still in a small swale. I radioed the info and said heads up, I am going in. The track took me one entire circle only to find ole wileys track walking on my track! I called and said he knows I am in here! Something should happen soon. He decided to go east out of the swale into the standing corn. I was carrying my .223 and my dads old service revolver, a sweet colt trooper in a heavy load. The track went in only ten yards then started crossing cornrows. This was not easy in the snowshoes, but I could feel he was close.

          Tip toeing, if it is possible in these things, I stepped into the next row to see him heading east straight away. I reached for the rifle but the corn stalks were too tall. So I pulled up the colt got him in the sight and let her fly. The deep snow was a plus this day because he couldn’t get up on top to run. That 180-grain was on its way when I heard a yelp! He made a hard right heading south. Now I have been told you can run in snowshoes, but somebody had left out the part about backing up! I tried, only to fall backwards. As I was going down the trooper was tracking down every cornrow that all six foot of me crossed on the way to the bottom.

          When I finally came to rest, I could see the coyote in his final resting-place. This was the first one I had ever taken with a handgun. What a rush! I got back on my feet and dragged him out a hundred yards to the east road where my friend was waiting. We both had a good chuckle over the snow shoe episode. That afternoon my friend’s wife took a peek at him then proceeded to give him a good swift kick! That’s for bugging my dogs she said! I received a call that afternoon that my dad was dying. I got to his nursing home and told him about the pistol coyote. All he said was "I told you that thing was accurate! "The sad part of this story is my dad passed away to the big bunny hunt in the sky twenty-four hours later. In his last few hours he said to me, "where did you get that doggie? "Was it dejavu that made that track appear? Naw.......

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