Bainwarble's New Dog

          Turns out the coyote attached to the skunk was only unconscious from the smell. Bainwarble dislodged the skunk from its jaws, and while chef Wiley Stinks whipped up a pot of campfire skunk knuckle stew, Glassshard resuscitated the scraggly canine. The resulting madness only subsided when Bainwarble hypnotized the coyote into silence.

           I don’t know what Bainwarble said, because it was all in Welsh—it kind of ebbed and flowed rapturously. When he snapped his fingers, the coyote and I both started and then sat back in a soothing blanket of calm. I snapped out of it when Glassshard told the coyote, “Your new name is Margaret.”

           “You can’t do that Glass shard,” howled Wiley as he stirred the skunk knuckle stew. “Margaret-I-suppose-you’re-thinking-of-Thatcher was female. Your hair bag coyote is a boy!”

“Oh???” uttered Bainwarble, ending the argument. Margaret eyed Wiley and yowled, “Oh???” So Neighborhood Stop and Frisk lost out to Margaret’s care, feeding, and training. Bainwarble was wildly successful. I thought Parliament, had they known, would have been proud.

           The big problem came when Animal Control inserted itself into the mix. They told Glassshard he couldn’t keep a coyote as a pet. Ducky Bumps and I listened in on their last visit. They kept snarling, “Coyote!” Bainwarble kept mumbling “Kyhote!” with a Welsh lilt.

           Ducky Bumps had enough. “You idiots,” she roared, “It’s not a Coyote! It’s a Spanish breed called Quixote. And HIS name, “she said eyeing Bainwarble,“ is Senator. So leave the tags and buzz off!”