On Monday, I did a story during Memphis Morning News that dealt with a "Coyote Management Plan" that's being considered by a city in Massachusetts.

These folks want to harass the coyotes into leaving the area.

Here's the story.

Now, one of our listeners was inspired by this, and wrote a poem about it. His name is Charles Covington, and he gave me permission to post it on my blog.

Charles, I love the poem, and had great fun reading it on the air this morning.

Here it is:

    “The Official Coyote Management Program”

The Council of the town convened,
“We’ve got a big problem here.
Seems the coyotes have invaded us
And trying to take up residence I fear.”

We used to think them in the South---
Mississippi, Texas, or just Mid-West.
But folks, they have invaded us
So we must counter, put forth our best!”

I realize that we are North Eastern,
Almost New England our locale.
I’m assuming they know no boundaries
And I want none of them as my pal…

Meanwhile, keep your cats inside,
Bring all food bowls in the house.
Don’t provide them any temptation
Do inform each child and spouse.

One charter member has informed us,
‘We were the first ones on this site.
We claim, “Dieu et mon droit!”
We will not cede without a fight!”

So they tossed around some thoughts
And no good ideas ever came forth.
But they passed around a pact
And they all signed it with an oath…

“We shall stand up to those critters.
We shall yell and wave our hands.
They shall not encroach our yards
We’ll employ our marching bands!”

We shall tack signs on the trees—
‘All coyotes not welcome here’.
And if they do not heed our words
We will put on our fighting gear!”

We’ll inflate our big balloons
And we’ll wear loud, flashy clothes.
And if this doesn’t stem the tide
We’ll resort to using the garden hose!”

We’ll ring bells, blow our whistles,
Light some sparklers from the Fourth.
Hopefully, they will turn and run,
Running right back to their source.”

Well, this program went on for weeks,
All the coyotes laughed and howled.
They were making daily inroads
While the Council frowned and scowled…

One day a stranger moseyed through
And stopped for coffee in that town.
Saw the signs and heard the yells
(He had no credentials or renown.)

But he spoke unto the Mayor,
“Where I’m from we handle this.
 We use .270’s and some traps
And ‘fore too long you’re back to bliss.”

The Council listened to this man
With jeans and boots—a Texas drawl.
They wrote a contract for the stranger
Wanting not to wait or stall.

So in about a week or two
Their fears subsided and all alarms.
The total count was thirty-seven
With hides all tacked unto the barns.

The cats resumed their nightly prowl,
The baby chicks could wander free.
The Council revised their earlier plan,
All signs pulled down from each tree.