A few years back, I had just gotten out of bed, and opened the shade for a bit of light in the darkened room. The kids had been awake already and heard the shade go up. The oldest daughter came into the room to greet us and beg for the french toast she always has to have for breakfast.
So I'm standing in my boxers, in front of the second story window, trying to get the sleep out of my eyes, and the daughter says to me, "there's a coyote running in the backyard". I think to myself, "yeah right". She says, "I'm not kidding". I take the bait and turn around. Lo and behold, she wasn't kidding. (For once)
I had been waiting for this opportunity for years. I had the screen to the window conveniently removed. I now just needed a rifle. To the safe! After what seemed like five minutes, I get the thing opened. Great! Rifle in hand! Oh no! No ammo! After running around like the village idiot in my shorts, (everyone was amused) trying to find some ammo, I find what I'm looking for.
The rifle I grabbed was the Kimber Model 82 gov't single shot CMP rifle. The ammo was CCI .22 shorts. Target shorts of course. I crack the window and the coyote hears this and changes his course slightly away from me. I squeek with my lips softly and he stops, but then goes back to leaving. I get him to stop again with another squeek, and I align the irons with his ear and gently break the shot.
The 29 grain bullet found it's intended mark, right down the earhole. He dropped as fast as any coyote I have ever shot with a centerfire. My wife commented to me, "he is still moving, hit him again". I told her, "no, he's dead, his brain never got the chance to get the message to his body". The distance was 70 yards. It was a smallish coyote and a bit mangy. He was a leav-er-rite. I saved the skull to showcase the shot, but a misguided nephew decided he needed it in pieces, so he smashed it to bits. Enjoy, Eric
