Drive just a little way into the hills in the west end of Malibu and where the roads end, the undeveloped mountains begin. It's a busy border with strollers and dog walkers, hikers and bikers and, thanks to easy living afforded by food and water from landscaped yards, abundant wildlife.

That's where the little cottage sits, at the very back of a large property that borders conservancy land. The rear deck is cantilevered over untouched open space and from there, every day, we spend time with coyotes.

The pups smell them:

We see them:

And they see us:

Last night, just at sunset, we heard them. (That little 'woof' at the 17-second mark? Walt, asking for an encore.)