Miss Raven Meets Her Wild Soul by Judith Mitchell

Oil on Canvas

One warm, full-moon, summer night about 3 a.m., my black dog Raven awakened me with a “whuff”.  She was staring intently out the bedroom window, and I arose quietly and looked out, too.  On the lawn down below, as pale as the moonlight and as still as a rock, stood Coyote staring back up at us.  I could just make out a small rodent held in her mouth — the whole scene was bleached and ghostly except for Coyote’s shadow frozen there.  A little breeze came up and moved the white curtains beside Raven and me. Coyote, seeing the curtains sway, instantly vanished, as if by magic.  One moment she was there; in the next second, without my seeing her move, she had disappeared!  It was like a dream; but it was not a dream.