I fell asleep thinking about what object or symbol might be appropriate for the grave.
And awoke for the third time to the sound of another critter coming down the trail. I have only one dog, so the same thoughts as before ran through my head except for the bear my overwrought imagination added to the mountain lion and the badger.
It was noisy and moving slowly. And dragging a chain.
A chain? On a cliff over the Rio Grande fifty miles from the nearest human habitation?
I tried to imagine what it could be. The ghost of grave robbers past? The angry spirit of the corpse I had impaled?
Geronimo whined and scooted back against the cliff. I joined him. For all I know, I was also whining. I was giving serious consideration to taking a running leap into the canyon. I might land in deep enough water to survive the fall. Of course I can’t swim, but that seemed a minor point given the circumstances. And if I died, it would be instant, painless and infinitely better than being eaten alive by a bear or mountain lion.
But it was neither a bear nor a mountain line. It was a young coyote dragging a chain attached to a trap clamped on his left front foot. There was a lot of blood on his leg and quite a bit on his muzzle.
The stories of coyotes chewing off a foot to escape a trap are pure myth. He had licked the wound because it hurt, not to attempt an amputation. How he managed to pull the stake out of the ground I don’t know. Maybe the idiot who set the trap didn’t anchor it properly.
I tossed a chorizo to him. He sniffed at then ate it. He looked down at his leg then up at me. It’s tempting to say he wanted help, but I don’t believe coyotes see humans as helpers. The Wildlife Service kills over six thousand coyotes in New Mexico every year by trapping, snaring, shooting, poisoning, and aerial gunning.
Yes, aerial gunning. They shoot them from helicopters and small planes. Keep that in mind the next time you see one of those highway signs that read, “speeding enforced by aircraft.” One moment you’re motoring down the interstate. The next you’re taken out by an air-to-surface missile.
About the Author
Mike Orenduff grew up in a house so close to the Rio Grande that he could Frisbee a tortilla into Mexico. While in graduate school at the University of New Mexico, he worked during the summer as a volunteer teacher at one of the nearby pueblos. After receiving his M.A. at New Mexico and his Ph.D. at Tulane, he became a university professor. He went on to serve as President of New Mexico State University. He took early retirement from higher education to write his award-winning Pot Thief murder mysteries which combine archaeology and philosophy with humor and mystery. Among his many awards are the “Lefty” national award for best humorous mystery, two “Eppies” for the best eBook mysteries and the New Mexico Book of the Year Award.
His books have been described by The Baltimore Sun as “funny at a very high intellectual level and deliciously delightful” and by The El Paso Times as “the perfect fusion of murder, mayhem and margaritas.”
The Pot Thief Who Studied Pythagoras, The Pot Thief Who Studied Ptolemy, The Pot Thief Who Studied Einstein, and The Pot Thief Who Studied Escoffier are available in paperback from your local independent bookseller, Barnes & Noble, Amazon and the publisher, Aakenbaaken & Kent. Signed copies are sometimes available from the many bookstores where the author has done signings. They are also available directly from the author: [email protected]. E-book versions of all Pot Thief books are available from Amazon.com.
The Pot Thief Who Studied D. H. Lawrence Page 21
