Tuesday, November 1, 2022


So no shit, there I was:

I had to pick up Secondborn from a Band Thing the other evening, so I figured I'd put the dog in the car, arrive early, and walk the dog for a bit before the buses arrived with the kids. There's a path that goes through the park beside the school, across the creek behind the school, and around to another bridge that comes out at the elementary school beside the middle school. (Got all that?) 

So I'm walking dog around the park. He has Smelled All The Things. He has Pooped The Massive Poop. He has pranced. He has trotted. We are now headed for the first of the two bridges... 

...When a fucking coyote ghosts up from the creek, appears beside the bridge, and pads off across the grass - possibly in search of a rabbit. 

The coyote stops. We stop. We're about... 40-45' apart, which isn't a bad distance. The Coyote sits down. My dog sits down, like "Look how well-behaved I am, coyote-buddy! Do you want to come over and be friends???" And I am just like, Oh hell no, and I pull the dog and set us back on our way across the bridge, which means moving past the coyote at an angle that doesn't take us much closer than we are now. 

It also means wrangling Crotchstomper McSnuggles, who really wants to meet this coyote. 

And, I mean, it was fine: we went across the bridge, the coyote went on its way, the dog has now had the Best Walk Of His Life, and we eventually picked up Secondborn and his friend and got everybody back home. 

But that was quite a moment, there.

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