Coyote killer's commitment to excellence brings home the bacon

Weird had another coyote encounter yesterday at the American River.

We went to the river last night around 6:30pm in River Park. Typically we like to walk straight down to the water, then along the river heading west before cutting back in to the levee, which was our path last night. And as we were walking alongside the levee back toward the parking lot, Weird a good 10 feet in front of us, a spry young coyote popped out of the woods and went toward Weird, who did an about-face and started sniffing the coyote's butt. Then there was a stare down, which is when I intervened and scared the scavenger off.

I don't like coyotes, but this one was a beautiful prarie wolf: long, gray-less tail, huge jaw and snout, beady, glowing eyes. He scampered off into the brush, Weird having to be held back from chasing him, and the coyote just kept looking back at us until we were on our way.

Leroy wanted a piece of that action, too, but we had to scoop him up and cradle him for a few yards. Dumbass pug.

He's about as smart as the Oakland Raiders, who looked like a high-school team last night. Dropping passes; committing 15-yard penalty after 15-yard penalty; fudging reverses; etc—there wasn't enough beer at AN's to ease the pain. 

There was, however, more bacon! OK: I started eating meat again, after 13 years of vegetarianism, so of course I'm all up in the fatty pork of gods that is Bledsoe Pork bacon. I had a typical, boring salad—romaine, roasted corn, bell pepper, salt, pepper, flax oil, rice vinegar—but laid a few strips of hot bacon over the top. Man is that shit good.