Singing In the Chorus

Bessie Anne was enjoying that hour or so after the critters are tucked in when she lays on the front porch, watches the last of the sun's rays sink below the horizon, and contemplates whatever it is dogs think about.  The beastie boys were out early last evening; just after full dark the coyote pack ran yipping and howling over the hills.  In the house, Bess will raise her head as they pass by or go to the door and growl, perhaps give a bark or two.  Last night, outside and alone, their calls must have touched something primeval because the next thing I heard was Bessie yodeling along with their chorus.  She's not an experienced singer and I doubt she'll be asked to perform a solo act, but, like the soprano in the choir loft, she sang out with gusto and just a little off key.