Walking at the lake the other day and there, at the top of the stairs, this coyote.

He didn't move, didn't run, just stood there and watched us. (Maisie, meanwhile, had to be restrained from whatever it is she's trying to do when she takes off after coyotes -- chase them? Join them? Beg for poop?)

It took a few rounds of "shoo!" and some hand clapping to get him to leave. Which he did, finally, regally, and oh so very slowly.