Saw a Coyote the Other Day and Got Scared. Felt Like a Little Bitch.

Was a gorgeous Tuesday night: slight brisk in the air, clouds dancing around the waxing crescent hung deep in the sky, footsteps and soft conversation of couples getting in their late-night stroll. Was also roller hockey night for your boy, so I was all sorts of jacked. (Been on a losing skid recently, but those post-game Guinnesses still hit like crack.) Got my hockey bag, stick, a positive attitude and made my way to my car. Step, step, look up, bang, a coyote just straight eyeballing me. Bro’s right by my car, about 20 yards away. He’s frozen, I’m frozen. My first thought: “Is he chill?” “Dude have rabies and ready to risk it all?” Hell, he was probably thinking the same thing about me! Anyways, I was cautious. Heard people walking just behind me. Turned around, older couple. “Hey guys. Just a heads up, there’s a coyote right there.”

Old guy didn’t break fucking stride. “Oh cool! Look hun!” The wife veers a touch to the left towards the other side of the road. I start moving slowly to the left as well, see what Mr. Coyotoe does. Old guy slows to my pace. “Where do you play hockey?” This crazy bastard just straight up takes his eye off this wild animal. Now I got two sumbitches eyeballing me.

I try to be polite, make a little eye contact, answer his question, but 80% of my attention is on the coyote.

Wife’s probably seen this song and dance one too many times. Her husband stopping for a long convo with strangers, that is. “Let’s keep it moving hon.”

Coyote starts moving. Makes his way up the hill towards one of the bigger bushes. Even slips a little. Looked a little embarrassed. It’s ok man, looks slippery!

Old guy wishes me luck and the couple continues on their “we’re not scared of shit” walk.

I make it to my car, look to my right and see the coyote. He’s about 15 yards away and now has a friend. “Bobby, you have a hockey stick. You could fuck these things up.” The thought calmed me down a touch. Still, my attention will not leave these fuckers. I put my stick in the car. Big, just need to open the trunk, toss the bag in and we’re golden. Then I thought, “Just throw the bag in the backseat and get out of here!” Made a move to do so, then toughened up. Nah, this is my house (apartment). Made my way around to the trunk. Coyote and friend are still checking me out. I audibly say, “Don’t worry about me boys!” The old guy must’ve heard me because I heard a laugh down the road. I often talk to wild animals like that, feel like it eases the vibe. Breaks a little, “Is this guy going to kill me?” tension.

Now I’m in my car, W. Start driving off. Felt safe, in control, no longer scared. Scared or cautious? I don’t know. Probably a little scared.

Fuck man, a part of me wishes I could be like one of those cool guys who aren’t scared of like 75% of animals. Steve Irwin is the extreme, but people like that. You know, that vibe hunters and fishers give off: “Look, a gator! Hell! Good eatin!” “Look, a moose and her baby. Let’s go give them a high five!” Approaching a 150-pound dog they’ve never met before: “Belly rubs!” Not me man. Whether it’s a big dog, squirrel, goose, fuckin’ crane, I’m always waiting for one of these fuckers to freak out.

Scared? Little bitch? Cautious? Coward? I don’t know man. Feels cautious until you’re next to someone who doesn’t break stride.