The story is told in Mexico of a young coyote who saved a village from dangerous bees. Near a small village on the side of a mountain, a large number of coyotes lived out on the plain in the brush, and they stayed carefully separate from the people and usually hidden in the brush, as is their nature. However, one inquisitive young coyote sometimes watched the village children at play chasing a ball with sticks, as is their nature, and once secretly retrieved the ball for them when it had gone too far into the brush.
The coyotes could tell everything that was happening in the brush all the way from the base of the mountains west as far as where the sun splashed the colors of the sea into the sky. One evening a hunting pair of coyotes announced to all the others a danger they'd found near the southern perimeter of their territory. The young coyote, like all the other young coyotes, ran to see what had been found.
As she neared the location, the young coyote heard the rapid sharp yelps of the hunters in mortal pain. At these sounds, most of the coyotes hid under something, but this one crept up closer to where she could see, in a small clearing, the two older coyotes frantically rubbing themselves on the ground, flip-flopping as if they were trying to rub both the front and the back at the same time. Yelping continuously, one and then the other took off toward a nearby stream, crashing into bushes in their haste, and yelping all the more.
In the clearing the young coyote saw a nest of bees fallen to the ground. Any coyote would forget a few stings at the first bite of the honey. Suddenly another coyote at the edge of the clearing yipped once and ran directly toward the stream, having learned from the other two, and then, before the young coyote had time to think, a bee-dark cloud settled on her.
Realizing in an instant that these were not normal bees, and the implications, not only to her kind, but also to the children in the village, the young coyote ran full speed toward the nest instead of away from it, and she ran headfirst into it, splitting it open. She then began rolling around in the honey until she was completely covered with honey as well as with bees.
The young coyote ran toward the village, hoping the villagers would find her and be alerted to the danger, and also hoping the bees on her would drown in the honey by the time she reached the village so they could not harm the children. The young coyote wondered, as she ran as fast as she could, that such small creatures could inflict such large pain, and that so many of them could bring a pain so singular in effect. The poison from the stings affected her increasingly as she neared the village until she could hold only one thought: moving her legs. She reached the clearing at the edge of the village and managed to drag herself out into the open before consciousness left her.
The next morning the villagers found her and were astonished at the sight. The coyote had crawled through a bed of white-blossomed clover one of the women had been cultivating at the edge of the clearing. The white blooms of the clover had stuck to the coyote, completely covering her, and with thick clusters around her ankles and around her snout.
The village men found the bees on her, and they took the South wind to blow a fire to the bees, and to burn all the brush south of the village and west to the sea. The villagers were not harmed, and they saw no more of the dangerous bees. The village women nursed the coyote back to health, and the clover blossoms took root on her and covered her for the rest of her days. The villagers named her Xochicoyotl, which means Flowery Coyote, and Xochicoyotl was the first poodle. To this day the village children sing her name in a song.