Two local men knock on the front door. They ask if they can hunt coyotes on our land. I tell them no. They persist. Rufus isn’t home, but I wish he was, so he could tell these guys off. They say they’ve gotten permission from the adjoining property and want to know if they can follow coyotes onto our land. I’m becoming visibly upset. I flash back to “Prodigal Summer” and wonder what Barbara Kingsolver’s character Deanna would say to these two. I want to give them a piece of my mind, but the more rational mind knows they’ll have no part of it. I tell them if they come onto our property, we will have a problem. Spare me your coyote hunting justifications.