So. I told everybody about the “vampires” and “vampire hunters.” And yeah, I’m usin my ironical punctuation like I learned to talk with. If you know me at all by now, you know I couldn’t possibly make this stuff up, the stuff that happens around the County Island, and you know I’m an honest, steady-eddy, got my hooves planted square on the ground kinda horse.
So. Last night, in the wash where I often get rode, I was bein rode home at dusk past the spot where the County Island young’uns done buried a dead coyote, which I also told about here in another story.
And I was already feelin kinda spooked, not outwardly ‘cause, as an honest, steady-eddy, got my hooves planted square on the ground ranch horse, most things resemblin a spook never make it past that tiny tingle of a thought a horse gets in his mind about it. But dark was comin on, and me, Coors, and Coors Light had conversed so much about the possibility – unlikely possibility – of vampires, that I couldn’t help but ponder ‘em.
If people spend so much time thinkin and talkin about such things … could they really be real? Why would a person spend so much time thinkin about a thing that wasn’t real? A horse’d never do that. We got enough things that are real to ponder, for instance, why is my bucket still empty, and at what time will it get filled again?
Still and all, there I was, bein rode by our bucket gal, past the grave site of the dead coyote at dusk, tryin to keep my eyes and my horse thoughts pointed straight forwards towards home and my supper, when the bucket gal made me stop.
“Huh!” she said, and pointed me toward the grave of the dead coyote, which now looked like this:
That right there? That’s a paw. A paw of a dead coyote. Stickin up out of the earth of a partly open dead coyote grave. Stickin up like maybe it was fixin to pull itself up and out of the grave, and rise again.
And so, I got to ask a question. The bucket gal proclaimed it to be “awesome.” When I got home and told Coors and Coors Light, they proclaimed it to be “the undead.” I myself ventured that maybe some other scavenger-like animal had been diggin it up and only got a paw out before it lit off, possibly scared off by people and horses, maybe even by me and my bucket gal.
And so, that leaves me to ask: Is it an awesome thing? Is it an undead thing? Is it just a plain old dead coyote paw like I think it is? Or is it somethin else?
Whatever it is, I reckon it is what it is, no matter what a horse, or a person, thinks it is.