The writer’s life

Yesterday I was walking Paul, and we stopped at a little park that’s really no more than a larger-than-usual grassy roundabout. It was twilight; Paul was sniffing and back-scratching the grass, enjoying the scent of water and green that’s so rare in the desert summer, like you do.

When we turned around, there was a little coyote, standing at the edge of the grass. It looked at us, then lay down. Paul barked, and it stood up, tail between its legs. As we watched, and I desperately tried to get a decent photo with my cracked iPod, it loped across the grass, quiet as anything. When we left, it was still there.

This is our favorite new neighbor.

(Note: the comic above is not a coyote! It’s a maned wolf. Coincidence!)

Also, have you seen this gorgeous review of The Daughters in Publisher’s Weekly? Pretty happy about that. Pretty happy indeed.