After moving into my new home in the middle of October, I was more than excited to venture out and explore the surrounding area for potential coyote hunting spots. My house was located just outside of a small Missouri town that consisted of 243 people. I had done my homework on Google Earth and noticed there was a plethora of open farm land nearby covered with draws and hedgerows. Needless to say, the land looked promising in holding a few coyotes. After a long day of unpacking, I found myself standing on the back porch with an open reed howler in hand, watching the sun settle over a vast cut cornfield. Anxiously I stood, listening for a song dog to break the silence. Thirty disappointing minutes later, the only thing that broke that silence was the buzz of the yard light kicking on. I then raised my howler to my mouth and let out a long lonesome howl that seemed to echo for miles. I waited, and before I could answer myself a group of coyotes lit up two fields over, then another group began to serenade from north, and a few more answered farther away from the south. As I listened to the orchestra of coyote yips that seemed to come from nearly every direction, I couldn't help but to grin and think to myself, "Game on!"
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