Late last night, we heard godawful noises outside. One sound was familiar from our days as cat owners, when our young, slim, calico Goldberry whupped the two fat (literally) cats next door, Bert and Ernie. The other sound was totally unfamiliar.

When we went out front to have a look, there, across the street, was our neighbor's black and white cat, hissing loudly and puffed up as big as one of those red rubber balls used for dodgeball in grade school. Facing off with her was a coyote. Jim started yelling, "Shoo, shoo," and waving his arms wildly. The coyote glanced at him briefly and returned its focus to the cat. Finally Jim took his arm waving routine to the street, jogging up and down, still yelling at the coyote. After a few minutes, the coyote gave up and loped slowly west (of course) down the street.

We stood and watched the big animal until we were sure that he was well on his way. Meanwhile, the cat continued with the pufferfish imitation and non-stop hissing, no doubt convinced, in the way of all felines, that she had scared off that vicious wild animal.