A
few years ago a neurologist who
had retired to Dallas rode his
Harley off the road that comes
down from McDonald Observatory
toward Fort Davis, Texas. There’s one
break in the CCC-built rock retaining
wall, and it’s just before you get to a
hard left turn. The road is banked right
to left, and he went through the open-
ing in the wall at about 60 miles per
hour, flying over the barbed wire fence
like Steve McQueen, didn’t leave a
trace. The doctor traveled out of con-
trol another 100 yards to the bottom of
the canyon, hit a great big rock and
died instantly.
Weeks went by, and he wasn’t
found. They checked all the towns
between Dallas and Big Bend, and had
no luck finding him. He had told his
wife he was going to Big Bend, and
would meet her there, so no one looked
for him around Fort Davis. His body
was found about a month later after the
Harley was spotted from a Border
Patrol airplane.
The doctor was brilliant. He had
been the Head of the Department of
Neurology at the Mayo Clinic. He had
located the area of the brain that con-
trolled speech and how to alter it. He
could change the way a voice sounded
and he could stimulate the ability to
sing. Women’s choices were Billie
Holiday, Emmylou Harris, Lydia
Mendoza, or Janis Joplin; men’s were
Hank Williams, Sam Cook, George
Jones, or Mick Jagger.
Needless to say he made a big pile of
money, retired at 50, grew a ponytail,
bought a black Harley and got himself
an American flag do-rag -- no helmet
for this guy. His family called him
Captain Joe, the Biker Neurologist.
This was his first long road trip. He had
only had the bike a couple of months
and was raring to go. He told his wife
where to meet in Big Bend Park, and
left a day ahead of her. He told her he
was going to go west until he got
behind the sun.
Buzzards were the first to find his
body; that alerted the coyotes. The
coyote in this tale is the grandson of the
coyote that ate the doctor’s brain. He
was the only one in his litter to receive
the gene that allowed telepathic com-
munication with a very few humans,
plus he could sense which humans
might respond.
Hal, we’ll call him, also inherited the
ability to read and understand English,
and just a little Spanish along with nat-
ural coyote intelligence. He started
hanging out at Fort Davis State Park.
He noticed Linda Lou dumping trash
from the park office. Hal sensed that he
might be able to communicate with
her.
Lou had worked for the state park
system for years but had only been in
Fort Davis a few months. She liked the
Davis Mountains and wanted to retire
there. This was to be her last assign-
ment before retirement. During the
years Lou had worked for the park
department she had studied and
observed coyotes during her off time.
Lou knew their sounds, their howls,
yelps, yips, and barks, and had read
what people thought they might mean.
She had also developed a very high
respect for their intelligence, survival
instincts, and the ability to adapt to
almost any environment.
Lou had just put the trash out when
she felt Hal’s presence. She couldn’t see
him but she knew he was close by. Hal
watched her, moving from side to side.
He could see her following his move-
ments. After a few minutes he told her
his name telepathically. Linda Lou said
her name out loud. She said that the
next night she would leave some burg-
er out. Hal barked softly and left.
The next night Lou put out a pound
of hamburger and went back inside.
Before she left she checked on the
meat; it was still there. The next morn-
ing when she got to work it had disap-
peared. This went on a couple more
nights. Then the meat was gone before
she got in her car to leave. She said Hal
out loud a couple of times but no
response. Two more days went by with
no sign of Hal. On the third night Hal
said, “Thanks for the hamburger.”
A couple of days later Hal asked Lou
if she could put out a few scraps for
some of his friends. Lou said, “Sure.
Could a couple of y’all howl a little
around the campground on Friday and
Saturday?” Hal just laughed and left.
Lou put out more leftovers and ham-
burger; it was taken by the time she left.
Friday just after sundown one coy-
ote howled on one side of the park
campground, and another howled on
the other side. After a few minutes a
third coyote joined in, and it continued
every five or 10 minutes until 10 o’clock
sharp. It happened again Saturday.
Lou kept putting out food. Even on her
day off she’d put out leftovers and ham-
burger with a touch of Tabasco. Hal
had let her know that he liked a bit of
heat.
Hal didn’t show up again until the
following Sunday night, and they had a
big laugh about the howling, and talked
for a while. He told Lou why he could
communicate with her, and the story
about the motorcycle wreck. Lou told
him about where she grew up, her job
at the park, and her long time interest
in coyotes.
The howling went on for the next
two weekends. Lou’s boss remarked
that it was the same time every week
and it stopped promptly at 10. Lou
laughed and said, “Oh, I asked them to
do that.” Her boss just laughed, and
walked off, but when he got home that
night he mentioned it to his wife. After
a couple more weeks of regular howling
his wife asked him if he thought Lou
could get them to howl at her sister’s
dude ranch the following weekend.
Sure enough coyotes showed up at
both places and howled from 8 until
10. Monday morning Lou found an
envelope under her windshield wiper
with a $100 bill in it.
Word got around that Lou could get
coyotes to howl for you. Lots of people
started calling. She got some business
cards: “Howl for Hire” with her cell
number and email address. Dude
ranches, homecoming games, film festi-
vals, chili cook offs, music festivals, calls
came in from everywhere. A Midland
oilman paid for a month of weekends in
advance.
Hal spent most nights at Lou’s
house, often sleeping close by. One
night while sitting on her patio Lou
said, “Hal, we’re making a lot of
money. We need to figure out a way for
you to collect your half, as well as do
something for the pack. How about this
for starters; I’ll build a shed in the back-
yard, put some hay in it, and provide
the food.” Soon all the coyotes moved
into the shed. They started looking
healthy with slick coats and fat bellies,
show coyotes. Of course they were
gone all night, but they had a great
place to sleep during the day; out of the
sun with water and something to eat.
Hal and Lou spent a lot of time put-
ting together a smooth-running opera-
tion. Lou bought a new Chevy
Suburban, had it modified so the win-
dows would roll all the way down. The
coyotes liked to stick their heads out.
Lou also got them all some goggles so
the wind didn’t burn their eyes.
The two of them usually sat around
on her patio talking, Lou having a glass
of wine and Hal a dark beer in a bowl.
Lou fixed steak tartar with a little
Tabasco for Hal and Beluga caviar for
herself, along with some olives stuffed
with garlic and jalapenos that Hal
liked, and homemade tortilla chips.
Cenizo
One night Lou got up and put some
Buddy Holly on her boom box. Hal’s
ears perked up, he said, “I’ve heard
that guy before, wasn’t he from West
Texas?” Lou just smiled and said, “All
my music is by West Texas people. I
grew up in Lubbock and most of them
grew up there too or passed through
there at one time.”
“Well I really like that guy, hope
you’ve got some more of him.”
Lou just laughed and answered,
“Oh I do. I’ve got everything he ever
recorded. I even named the dump
“The Norman Petty Studio and
Dump.” I made a little sign for it. Petty
recorded a lot of early West Texas
music in Clovis, NM but he screwed
the artists out of most of their money.”
They worked rain or shine and
never missed a gig. Things rocked
along nicely. Instead of adding more
coyotes they raised the price so they
didn’t get too busy.
One night Hal remarked, “You
know I was lucky growing up. I was the
runt of the litter but there were only
four of us so I didn’t get pushed off
when it came time to eat. My mother
even adopted another pup whose par-
ents got killed. Coyotes do that you
know, but there was plenty to eat. This
business we’ve started has made me the
leader of the pack, so to speak. I’ve
gained new respect from my folks. I
thank you for that. You’ve made us
rich coyotes. Life is great, plus we all
really like riding around in the truck;
everybody knows I always get to ride
shotgun.”
Lou answered, “Well, I’m not too
good at howling so there wouldn’t be a
business without y’all. You mentioned
that you were the runt. I sort of was
too. I was always a little pudgy growing
up and kids would call me Fatty, but I
would always shout my real name, my
real name is Linda Lou. I stuttered a bit
until I was 20. I know what you mean.
Can I get you another beer, Hal?”
“You know Lou, you grew into a
very attractive woman from a coyote’s
point of view, you look great. We live
by smell as well as sight and you smell
better than any woman I’ve ever
known.”
“Well, thanks for the compliment.
Hal, We’ve got a job Friday night at the
meeting of the state park staff from all
over West Texas. You know they real-
ly enjoy the howling, so we’ll probably
need four howlers, who do you think
you might send?”
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Fourth Quarter 2015