Who Scat That?

 

Pardon the graphic detail but inquiring minds just have to know...who scat that?

It's frigid here in my neck of southwest Virginia but thanks to a killer woodstove, the dog and I are right cozy.  We haven't ventured out much and reserve our trips for tooling around to the side of the house to grab another load of wood for the fire.

In fact, so hurried were our trips in this below zero windchill, we weren't entirely careful about how we grabbed the logs or whether or not we rearranged the pile in perfect balance.

So last night when it sounded like all hell was breaking loose outside by the woodpile, Maggie and I barely looked up from our warm nest in the overstuffed armchair.  I figured a few logs had come tumbling down, knocking against the side of the house as they fell.

Maggie, who'd already been fooled one too many times into barking at crackling wood in the stove, merely lifted her head, pricked her ears half-heartedly and then fell back asleep.

This morning, when she finally convinced me to take her out for a quick explore, we found the above pictured pile of hairy poop.

There are entire websites devoted to the identification of animal leavings and some even invite the curious to send in their photos, so of course I did.  I'm thinking it looks like coyote but we'll see what the experts at the University of Poop have to say when they write back.

Until then, I'm wishing I had one of those motion-activated trail cameras with an infrared flash so I could catch the little feller in the act.

It is a little creepy to think something that leaves a calling card like the one pictured could've been lurking just outside the circle of light surrounding the house, waiting for his golden moment, while I had my back to him and was innocently gathering wood for the fire.  Makes me kind of feel like Little Red Riding Hood skipping off to Grandma's...

What poop by yonder kitchen window drops...

sorry, couldn't help myself!