When that smug Roadrunner stuck out his tongue, made his rude noise, and zipped off to the vanishing point on the cartoon desert horizon –– I often wished he'd trip.
Just once giving the Wile E. Coyote the chance to make a meal of the annoying bird. He worked so hard on those roadrunner-catching contraptions.
Not that I knew from coyotes. Oy. They were a creature of the Wild West. But with the passage of time have come the wild canines, at least in the North Country.
I wrote about how they are known locally as "coydogs," but the coyotes of Northern New York are actually wolf-coyote hybrids.
The admixture of wolf gives them a bigger frame, and a somewhat less scruffy appearance. And maybe some vocal range.
From Base Camp on the Farm, we listen to their songs (which sound remarkably like what I image a chorus of the damned) often. I used the video function on my camera to capture this bit of soundtrack, so the sound is fairly –– er –– tame.
YouTube thoughtfully asked if I wanted to enhance the lighting on this video-clip. Bless their hearts.
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