Cuts and Coyotes……

EARLY Saturday morning, like 3a.m., I am woken up to “*&#%, dang it, I cut my finger”. I am so asleep I can’t figure out what Hank is talking about. I listen to him go into the bathroom mumbling to himself, going through drawers, then leaving the room. The whole time I’m listening I am thinking, “HOW does someone cut his finger when sleeping?”

He gets back in bed and I sweetly say “What the heck?????”
His response; “A coyote was about to attack me so I took a swing at him, hey why did I not shoot him? Oh yeah, I didn’t want my gun shot to startle the deer.” It’s all about the hunt even in his sleep. He dreams he is at war and saving people, chasing down mountain lions ect. It has to be exhausting to be in his head!!

He goes on to tell me he had to steri strip his finger, which really needed stitches from hitting his alarm clock so hard. I’m just glad it wasn’t my head in the way of his fist……just sayin.