We live near protected wetlands, which has its positives and negatives. On the positive side, we’re surrounded by nature. On the negative side, well, we’re surrounded by nature. And specifically, apparently, by a coyote breeding ground.
I was never properly educated on how to deal with wild animals – I grew up in Northern New Jersey, where the closest thing to a wild animal that you’d find would probably be a Canadian goose (which can be vicious, if you must know…).
Anyway, a couple years ago, I attempted to become one with said nature. Not intentionally, may I add – I just happened to be out walking at 5am since I couldn’t sleep thanks to a herniated disc.
I left the house just like any other morning and started walking down the block. It wasn’t particularly light outside, but the sun was just starting to rise – which was fortunate or I probably would have otherwise run right into him.
At first, I thought it was a statue. Then I thought it was someone’s German Shepherd. Finally, the thought occurred to me that perhaps this was a coyote. And yes, if you must know, the only prior experience I had to base this on was from watching Looney Tunes on TV because he DID bear a striking resemblance to the Wile E. Coyote I knew and loved as a child…
Then it started moving. From across the street. Towards me.
My first instinct was to just flip around and start running at top speed back towards my house, but that quickly – and fortunately, based on what I was told later on – proved impossible with my back being messed up.
So instead, I just started walking backwards slowly, still facing the thing (which was by no means intentional but was instead the only speed at which I was capable of going at the time). I almost knocked over some garbage cans that were right next to me, but instead tiptoed around them so as not to disturb the… creature.
The thing, to its credit, must have figured out that I wouldn’t have made a very tasty meal and just sort of stared at me for the entire length of the block back, which – for the record – felt like THE longest block ever walked in my life.
When I returned home, I frantically called my best friend, who is the complete antithesis of me and remains calm in all situations, no matter their gravity. She patiently listened to the entire coyote story, then just took a deep breath and said, “You DO know that you could have just slammed the garbage cans and he would have run away, right? Coyotes are afraid of people. And they don’t eat them either.”
Oh. Didn’t know that, but duly noted for future reference – though that was the last time I ever left the house before 8am again.