Rumor has it, Georgia O'Keeffe was walking in the desert; her long black skirt swept the sand. She could smell bones. With palette and paintbrush in hand, she walked west to find them.
It was high noon, hot, but O'Keeffe would not be deterred. She walked down arroyos and up steep slopes; her instincts were her guide. Ravens cavorted above her, following this black-clothed creature through the maze of juniper and sage.
Suddenly, O'Keeffe stopped. She saw bones. She also saw Coyote and hid behind a piņon.
Coyote's yellow eyes burned like flames as he danced around the cow carcass with a femur in each hand. His lasso made of barbed wire had brought the bovine down. Maggots, beetles, and buzzards had miraculously cleaned the bones. The skull glistened.
Coyote had succeeded once again. He had stripped the desert of another sacred cow.