photo taken November 2015

Charlie and I have started going on walks around the cabin. He trots along next to me and never strays far without coming back to check in. It’s like he knows there’s a certain radius he’s allowed to explore, and I’m so glad of it, because it means I don’t need to have him on a leash while still feeling confident about his safety.

We also spend time in my truck – I want to get him used to it so I take some writing to work on or talk on the phone while he clambers around. Soon we’ll go to the Post Office.

Charlie’s started following commands. Tapping my fingers on the ground means “come here” – that was the first thing he learned; he does it well. A low, stern “hey” means “bite me gentler” (Is that word or is my Wyoming dialect coming out? I have actually used the word ‘growd’ in a sentence, as in “the weeds growd up and shorted out the ‘lectric fence.” Horrors.) Anyway, he knows “come,” “hey,” and he also responds to his name. I say “Charlie!” and his little head pops up or he turns around.

We’ve gone on three trips in the truck and he rides so well. He starts out by sitting on my lap with his front paws on the window ledge looking out, then makes a trip or two around the inside of the truck, and then curls up on the floorboard.

He’s great. He’s a little coyote with so much happiness in him. Wish you all could nuzzle his soft little head fur.