First light this morning found me sitting on a little rise 150 yards from last week's pair of hog carcasses, hoping a yodel dog would stop by for an early breakfast. As the world lightened up around me, it began to appear less and less likely that I'd see any action, and I was resigning myself to heading back to the house unsuccessful. I'd even resorted to fiddling with my rangefinder as I'd wanted to verify the exact distance to those carcasses.
Where he came from, I haven't the first clue...one moment it was just me and two very dead hogs, the next moment there was a coyote standing sixty yards in front of me. Maybe he just appeared like some furry djinn, but he was simply traveling through the country and absolutely uninterested in my dining offerings. I gently swung the little Sako onto him as he walked and then gave a low whistle. He stopped and looked back up the slope in my direction, and I sent a 40 grain Sierra Blitzking into his ribs. He snapped at where the bullet bit him and made three quick spins in place, effectively screwing himself into the ground.
Walking down to where he lay, I found that the little Sierra had left a pretty savage exit, and the coyote had ended with his near-side foreleg in his teeth. His fawn-eatin', goat-chewin' days are over...