Mother Cat closed her eyes. She wrapped her tail around her brown haunches and tucked her forepaws lightly beneath her torso. Her chest heaved from running. She must be ready to run again, but she'd wait inside the bush as long as possible to let her heart slow down. Night dew dripped into her fur. She shivered. She regretted coming to the Greenplace to hunt, but the alleyway offered no game. What choice did she have? She needed to eat. You can't feed kits without eating. Kits! The fullness in her teats alerted her to their hunger.
Her breathing slowed at last, Mother Cat crawled deeper into the hedge and out the other side. She looked with wide eyes in all directions. Good. No ghostdog. Hunkered low, she crept along, remaining close to the foliage for protection. She scanned the terrain again. At last she felt confident she could cross the expanse of grass between the hedge and the safety of the trees. The rumble-road lay beyond them. Her kits waited in the alley on the far side of the road. Soon she would be warming them, safe in their nest, nursing them from her full belly.
Mother Cat sprinted from the hedge toward the tall trees. She was almost beneath their branches when a coyote stepped from behind a wide trunk and faced her, head low, eyes gleaming. She veered right. A second ghostdog emerged from the shadows and blocked her way. She panicked! She wheeled around mid-stride and raced back toward the hedge. She never saw the third dog. He leaped from the dark and snapped her neck before she could even turn her head. Death came with mercy.
The coyote who had barred Mother Cat's run for the trees scooped up a longear he had killed earlier that night. Prey in mouth, he led the others east, toward the canyon from which they came. From the jaws of each ghostdog swung the prize of the hunt as they trotted single file behind the alpha male. When they reached the entrance to their gulch, he stepped aside and let the others pass. Each nodded respect, then descended the steep slope leading to their den and the pups waiting for a meal. He watched them until the dark tangle of weeds and brush hid their passage, then placed his prey almost tenderly on the ground, on the canyon rim, and sat. He lifted his head to a million stars strewn across the black sky and howled. Thank you, Dog Father for this food. We honor and obey.
He took his prey, and like the mist, he slipped into the ravine and disappeared. |