Ok, so we have been having some trouble with coyotes at our house (we live in the country), and they are getting more and more bold.

Last night was their closest incursion - they came within six feet of the house. They were so loud that it seemed they were IN the house. Our German Shepard was going nuts, chaos ensued, in short the whole three stooges experience.

Now we have some cats that live in one of our sheds, and my wife is kind of attached to them, and they do a good job keeping the rodent population down. So she (and me too) gets a little worried about the coyotes being so close.

Anyway, the coyotes are at the door (so to speak) and my wife is panicking, so I grab the pistol (the only firearm I currently own - which is a whole 'nother story) and throw on my shoes and coat and head out the door.

By this time the coyotes are probably long gone, but I decide to track them for a while to see where they were headed and maybe catch one of them enjoying a rabbit dinner. Since we had a good snow over the weekend, this was pretty easy.

I found the fresh tracks and started on the trail (it was pretty easy with the full moon out). I saw tracks from two individuals, running pretty close together. The trail goes out past our two sheds, past the little orchard we have started, and into the grove of elm and cottonwood trees we are letting grow "volunteer" at the back of our property.

Did I mention that it's about 15 degrees out? And if you recall what I grabbed before heading out the door, you will see that gloves were not on the list. Luckily the pistol only needs one hand, so I can alternate carrying it and trying to thaw a hand in my coat pocket.

There I am, tracking a couple of coyotes, when my wife calls out that she's coming out too. So I wait for her to catch up, show her the tracks, how to tell they are fresh, are canine (not cat), and how many of the little buggers there are. And off we go, hot (sort of) on the trail.

At this point my wife begins talking - asking questions, pointing things out, just generally making a lot of noise. Being somewhat experienced in hunting, this does irritate me a little, so I shush her a few times before she, in turn, gets irritated with being shushed and heads back to the house.

I follow the trail until it goes into a wheat field where the ground is too rough to easily see the tracks, then head back as well.

Inside, my wife and I had the following conversation (more or less):

Me - So, you never went hunting with your brothers, did you?
She - No, why?
Me - well, it's traditional to be quiet when tracking animals.
She - I wanted to scare them off!
Me - Me too, only I just wanted to scare off the survivors.

She didn't seem to think that was very nice.