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.