Interlude: Plays Well with Others Or Tick Tock Tick

Coyote finally found a tree he could climb easily. It leaned

at a rakish angle and had good limbs for clawing up.

He was able to walk up the first twenty feet, then he crawled

out on the first large limb. He saw a little insect and was about

to lick it up when it said, “Wait, do you know who I am?”

Coyote shifted his weight to his stomach and said,

“Let me guess, the Creator?”

“No, I am the watcher, the guardian of the forest. I wait. I watch, then I pounce.”

“Are you a predator? A lion?”

“No, I am Tick!”

“What? I couldn’t hear you?”

“TICK. Don’t make me raise my voice.”

“And you are? What?”

“Simply, I am the most efficient hunter

in this forest.”

“Oh, really, that must be why I almost tripped

over all the bones of your victims,” Coyote smirked.

 

Tick bit into Coyote’s paw. “Ah, stop that, don’t burrow,

don’t!” Coyote tried to bite his persecutor, but Tick twisted

and dug in. Coyote’s teeth were too big, too pointy

to be of any use. “Ah, you were saying, what kind of hunter?”

Coyote shook his paw.

Tick answered, “Give up?”

“Okay, master, teach me,” Coyote said.

Tick climbed down on the branch. Coyote resisted

the temptation to smash down his paw, figuring that if

he missed he could never get rid of this parasitic punk.

“So, what is your strength?”

“Patience,” Tick answered. “Eventually the right

conditions present themselves and then I pounce. I bite,

I fatten until I drop off.”

Hmm, Coyote thought.

Tick continued: “I stabilize the forest. I hunt deer. I select

them.”

“Deer? How does that work?”

“I lie here on this branch.

When three conditions are right, I drop, assured of success.”

“The three conditions?”

“Movement—”

“You can see with those eyes?”

“Damned straight, especially shifts in light intensity. Then smell,

the funky smell of deer. Then heat, the heat of a hot body

beneath me. Then I drop.”

“Hey, I think I could do that!”

“Yes, you could, with patience

and training.”

“Okay, okay, so show me!” This is so easy, Coyote thought.

No wonder there are so many ticks. Coyote scratched his shoulder

and shook in distaste. Just lie here and drop. No more frantic

chasing or tiresome digging. Just wait, just rest ‘til the smell

of deer— and Coyote fell asleep.

Mrs. Tick was looking

at the large dog body on the next branch. “Is that where you got

the blood for the kids?”

“Yea,” Tick answered, “although not

as much as I wanted.”

“What’s he doing there?”

“He is following the tao of tick.”

“Did you say ‘dow of dick?”

“Yea, Chinese pronunciation.”

“Did you tell him you may have

to wait for ten to fifteen years?”

“He didn’t ask.”

They watched Coyote lying still for hours. Coyote became a legend for the next generation of ticks. He went hungry, then lost weight, then became weaker. Finally, he rolled off the branch and accidentally hit a squirrel. But, he was too weak to bite squirrel, who bit a limp paw before running up the tree. He regaled other squirrels constantly about the day he almost killed Coyote.