OK, so a few months ago my wife “needed” to supplement our cat population, and got a couple kittens. And they HAD to stay in the house until they were big enough to take care of themselves (fair enough). Well, it’s been a few months and after one has decided that digging in the trash is better than eating the cat food we put out and the other one can’t quite pinch it off before he comes out of the cat box, she was convinced that it’s time for them to be full time outside kitties. This weekend, as we were putting them out, she reminded me just how sad she would be if the coyotes happened to invite one of them out to play. And what do you know; one has been missing since Sunday. So this morning as I’m pulling into work she calls to tell me that as she opens the patio door the remaining cat is sitting on the porch anxiously looking down the side of the house. She follows the cats glance to see a nice healthy coyote not 30 feet away. So she runs inside and grabs the little pump .22 that I gave her shortly after we met. But by the time she gets back outside Mr. coyote is about 100 yards away, so she takes careful aim, and pulls the trigger. But she didn’t call because she was mad, she called because tell me that I needed to buy her something better (and I quote) “like an AR-15 or something”. Ain’t life grand? Alright kiddies, you see how I did that? It looks easy, but really, it’s not.