Add that Reyn chases off last coyote, doesn't return till next chapter
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Reyn has a desire to leave the house. Her goal is to one day walk to the mailboxes with me. She says that she may even concede to a leash to blend in with the dogs. She seems capable when allowed to step confidently over our threshold. Then once outside and a bit past our porch she waits for me to join her near her side.
When we reach the grassy courtyard I think the wonder of space entices and perplexes her. The buildings must all seem the same, but suddenly so many! She's known the outdoors only through windows. Now here is a sky so huge and blue. Clouds- so strange. Trees are gigantic. Everything is larger than the life she has known or even ever imagined. Then suddenly none of that matters...
Please don't tell Nalini, but Reyn is allowed to hunt during our walks. At times she will wander more than 20 feet from me, but she always checks over her shoulder to see that I'm there. There are rare occasions on the quad when packs of dogs are not there pooping and watching their masters obediently pick up their presents in provided green bags and place them in the trash. Or not. It seems that everyone here has one or two shepherd-sized dogs.
But I digress. Reyn is constantly complaining about all of the dogs around here, and it rubs off on me. Their constant presence, especially at certain portions of the day, is intimidating to other species and limits the times which Reyne braves to go out.
Back to telling of Reyn's hunting prowess! Oh, but first this:
WARNING!!
Please note that no prey have been injured or killed on any of Reyn's hunting expeditions. We do not include occasional trophies bagged inside of our home due to instinctual reflexes which are presented to us in bed. Usually, these are moths or occasionally spiders. These gifts are seldom received and are predominately deceased.
When spies a chance flittering bird or two in a bush, or an undecided butterfly fluttering in no direction. Even a cocky crow strutting across the way will pique her interest. She will slow and stoop, crouch to her belly, and intensely pause. Haunches low bent and tight, forepaws bent and low, tail involuntarily dusting back and forth. Her chin to the ground, her head frozen her eyes spying back and forth.
I can almost feel her teeth clench as she imperceptibly crawls and creeps as silently as a falling leaf. This is the stalk of a tigress. Her prey is unaware until- POUNCE! Just as she does to her tiny stuffed fish she's been training with for years.
The tiny gray and blue fish she tosses and teases and throws through the air and all through the house preparing for the big hunt someday outside. Sometimes, for no apparent reason, she will hide the fish from herself. Just leave it somewhere in plane sight, usually very conspicuous. Next to the leg of the coffee table for instance. Or else under the couch or the bed. We figure it's dead.
After a week or more this violent play, death, and resurrection cycle she tosses her tiny fish into her water dish for cleaning. Sometimes she places it into our bathtub. She loves to stare into the bathtub. Sometimes she pats at the water there. This is why we not only keep the toilet seat down but the lid as well. This hapless cat toy is Reyn's only victory over the animal kingdom, unless you count bugs.
Nalini prefers not to have Reyn out of our apartment, at all. Even more so since the night we were coming at about 8:30 and saw a man ahead of us in our headlights.
This had a German Shepherd-sized dog tugging on its leash. The two were struggling in the middle of Sawmill Road, the two-lane frontage road running past our 1200-unit complex. It's fortunate that we saw them because the street lighting is inadequate in most parts of Santa Fe.
The peril was that six, yes six, Yes Six! Six Coyotes were Facing down this man and his dog! The coyotes were circling around them. This was happening less than a hundred yards from where we were turning into the main drive of our building.
I kid you not. I am not lying or exaggerating. Six coyotes surrounding a man and his dog less than 100, more like 50 yards away!
As we were already entering our complex's half-mile parking loop we sped toward the group honking our horn until we stopped about 50 feet from this potential not-so-happy meal. Before I could say anything, Nalini shot from our car and dashed over the 12-foot-high berm, while screaming and waving her arms.
Believe me, as quiet-spoken as that Hindu woman can be, she can really scream. The coyotes decided that they might be better off running further down Sawmill Road, maybe snack on roadrunners in the morning. But getting back to how Nalini calls Reyn into the house, even if Reyn is only approaching the front door. Nalini calls out, in a sweet yet teasing call: "Coyote! Coyo
