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The puffy small white clouds move across the light-blue sky like memories across Larid Johnson’s mind. His memories are of hunting coyotes in old Wyoming for more than thirty years. He remembers the anticipation he felt when moving his pretty, young wife, his two small children, and most of his earthly possessions in the trunk of his Chevy Sport to his new job with the US Fish and Wildlife Service. He remembers the unusual characters with whom he worked through the years and the exciting experiences that went with the job. He remembers the things that he learned about coyotes and predator control, and he remembers the satisfaction of helping ranchers save some lambs. Life was good in those days, and the time passed too quickly. He has recorded some of his memories in this book, Yellow Dog Eight.