Crazy Judy Strikes Again

We were unloading groceries in the garage when I glanced across the street and saw Mel and Jeannie’s Snowbird renter, Judy, feebly waving at me from her driveway.  At least I hoped what she was doing was waving; otherwise, I’d probably have had to call an ambulance for her.  Judy seems to be in a constant state of agitation, verging on a panic attack.  She’s very thin and fragile-looking, somewhat hunchbacked and somewhere between 55 and 80.  I waved back, which apparently was an invitation for her to come over.

She sort of crab-walked across the street, almost as though an invisible string was trying to keep her in her yard and she was pulling against it in a tug-of-war struggle to get to our house.  I took pity on her and met her on the sidewalk at the end of our drive.

“Hi Judy, what’s up,” I said with a friendly smile.

“Hi, Patt.  Hi Bill,” she said, waving at Bill who was making his way toward us.  “I saw my first coyote yesterday,” she announced, beaming with never-before seen animation.  “It was walking through my backyard.  It was really exciting except I just felt so bad because I didn’t have anything to feed it.

Bill started to say, “How about your…” until I elbowed him in the rib cage.

“That’s a really bad idea,” I said.  “Especially since you leave your cat on the sun porch.  A coyote could come right through the screen if it wanted to get at it bad enough.  DON’T feed the coyotes,” I said rather sternly.  “There are plenty of rabbits around here for them to eat.  Sun City coyotes are the best fed wildlife in the state.”

“But it looked so thin,” she whined.  “I felt sorry for it.  Maybe just a little something before I go home?” she pleaded.  “I’m leaving soon, you know.”

“You’ll go home and we’ll all be stuck here with pissed off coyotes because the handouts stopped.  Please Judy, seriously, don’t feed them.”

“Oh, alright,” she whimpered, turning to go.  “I just hope I see another one before I leave.”

That night on the news there was a report about a woman in El Mirage, a town just west of Sun City.  She was sitting on her patio reading when she felt a sudden sharp pain in her leg.  She looked down and a coyote had its mouth wrapped around her calf.  Bill and I looked at each other with wide eyes.

“it’s a sign,” he said reverently.  “It’s time for Crazy Judy to go home.”

Her husband showed up in cab two days later.


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