What To Do When You Meet a Coyote On the Street

A few weeks ago, I was walking the dogs. It was about 7:30 am. I usually walk Molly and Vivian on the weekends, Matt does so during the week. I like to take them on the fun walks. To the park, hiking in the mountains, exploring along the canals. You know, enjoying the Arizona west and veering away from the boring every-day walk.

On this day, a quiet Sunday, I decided to stay close. Figured I’d find fun in the neighborhood. I threw on a sweatshirt and shorts because it was a little Arizona chilly. I made myself a coffee, poured it in my Yeti and got us out the door.

We live in a quiet neighborhood. Suburban. An HOA-situation, constructed between two main artery roads that lead to highways. Our house is perched on the bend of a cul-de-sac, which is di-vine. It reminds me of my childhood home. The blue house off 60th street & 12th avenue in Kenosha. Safely tucked away from the world where we could ride bikes and roller skate in the street while real life happened around us.

With pit-bull mix Molly and chihuahua-poodle mix Vivi leading the way, we rounded the corner to go to the park. I looked left for any on-coming cars, and there, turning off the busy main street about a half-a-block away is a coyote.

Yes, a coyote.

This ain’t the mountains. This ain’t a deserted street. It ain’t even a house in the hills in LA where you see coyotes on the regular. It was little ole Orchid Street.

I literally said, “Uh-oh.”

I was sorta trapped. If I made a false move, my dogs would see the animal. That visual awareness could be disastrous. I couldn’t turn back. Plus, my instinct said I needed to go forward; put some distance between us. At the clip that coyote was comin’ at us, if turned back home, it would be on us in no time. I would be mauled for certain.

So, I did what any of you woulda done.

I ran.*

Across the street, there was a neighboring section. It had thru-streets, no cul-de-sac. I knew, like Bender and crew trying to escape Mr. Vernon in The Breakfast Club, that I could run down one street, turn a corner and cut through a section that would land me in the park via a side entrance. To safety. Where The Coyote certainly would not be.

With coffee flying in one hand and dogs running like the wind on their leashes in my other, I sprinted us through the neighborhood and into a wooded pathway that landed us on a sidewalk within the park.

Panting, I leaned down to catch my breath. (So out of shape these days.) I felt victorious. I smiled. Wiped the coffee off my arm. Gave a ‘good dog’ pat to the girls and sighed with relief.

I fixed myself upright and took a sip of my remaining coffee to sort of soothe my soul. And there to the right, comin’ down the lane, was, The Coyote.

It looked at me. Just like it looked at me before: Interested.

“Uh-oh!”

Clearly The Coyote was on to us. It had to be, right?? I mean, what were the odds that it would find us?

I look to my left, no cover, no escape. There was no choice but to high-tail it back the way we came and sprint back home. Now, we all know I ran track. These days, I run about once a year at the Pat Tillman fundraiser run — and I challenge myself to not walk the whole thing. I was lookin’ at a 440, at least…! Could I do it? Could I sprint again? Could I?

The Coyote was comin’. Had to think fast. No time to think about a 440. No time. I yelled to the dogs, “Let’s gooooo!”

And we ran, and ran, and ran, all the way home.

I arrived at the front door. Coffee sploshed all over my arm and chest. Sweat drenched my forehead. Chest heaving like there was going to be no tomorrow. Just dead. The dogs, tongues lolling and calm as could be, looked up at me as if to see if I was alright. They knew something was up, but they didn’t know what. They still had not seen The Coyote.

Hands on hips, I did that runner thing where you pace until your heart stops pounding and your human self returns to your body. I nodded to the dogs. Acknowledging their sportsdogship in all this. “Good girls…good dogs…good job,” I squeaked. Honestly, I was just thankful they ran with me and not ahead of me. I wouldn’t be here to tell you about it if they hadn’t. Molly, is a 60lb barrel-chested beast and is fast as fuuuudge. Vivi is a fearless sprinter, too, as we all know. I’d need to be She’Carri Richardson to have kept up with them.

When I caught my breath, I looked back behind me. There was no coyote. I felt successful, like maybe I had outsmarted him. That the cul-de-sac helped me win.

But, somehow, I knew this wasn’t the end of it all.

There was somethin’ I needed to do. There were other dog walkers out there. I’d seen them. A lady with a tiny, white, Maltipoo, a guy with two big mutts. What if they hadn’t ran track? What if The Coyote had them cornered against a wall, staring them down and licking its lips with anticipation? I mean, What if??

I ran in the house, told Matt what happened and grabbed my keys.

Perched at the kitchen counter, enjoying his coffee, he rolled his eyes. His head bounced back in a laugh. “You’re going to go look for it aren’t you?”

“Yup,” I said, with extreme determination. If I’d a had a cowboy hat on, I woulda tipped it at him.

I jumped in our black SUV and cased the neighborhood, looking for action. If I’d a had a cigarette, I woulda smoked it. I retraced my path, looked left and right as I drove slowly through The Breakfast Club neighborhood and other streets in the HOA-situation. I was ready to jump out just in case anyone needed help from being shredded.

But there was nothin’. Nobody in distress. No sign a’ nuttin.

Maybe I’d been outsmarted. Maybe there was something else going on. I mean, what if there’d been no coyote at all? What if? Maybe the lesson to learn in all of this is to believe in your strengths even when you believe them to be dormant. To believe that you can be a superhero for anyone, including yourself.

Love you!

*Note to readers:

Should you meet a coyote face-to-face in your neighborhood or elsewhere, Do NOT run. Do not panic like I did. Instead, you are supposed to keep eye contact, make yourself look big, make a lot of noise, and stand your ground. (Good metaphor for life, right?) Here is a link for info: https://www.humaneworld.org/en/resources/coyote-hazing