Coyotes

When Kellie is home, we frequently take our two small dogs, Maddie and Marley, both about 10 pounds, for long walks in the hills behind our housing development.  We stroll along the concrete gutters that run across the slopes to control rainwater runoff, while the dogs run free and explore the hills.  There are coyotes in area, that’s why we’re currently on cat number 17 or 18 (I lost count) but we don’t usually see or hear the coyotes during the daytime, and we’re usually not worried about the dog’s safety.

Yesterday was the first time I took the little beasts for a walk in the hills since Kellie left for her cruise.  Maddie was sniffing around the thick scrub that lines the sides of the gutters when I heard a strange growl from deep within the bushes behind the area she was investigating.  I froze; my heart started to pound.  A woman standing in her backyard about 50 feet below below us called out, “Be careful, I just saw a pack of coyotes run through there.”

Any doubt about what might be lurking in the brush immediately vanished.  I called for the dogs.  They must have sensed the urgency in my voice because they came to me immediately. Once I had them leashed up, we all took off running along the drainage ditch, headed for our nearest escape point.  We had to cover a few hundred yards before descending back down into our neighborhood.  

As I ran, I felt my hair bouncing up and down, a new experience for me now that my hair is almost shoulder length.  It made me think of those television commercials for shampoo and conditioner where they show a young woman’s hair undulating in slow motion.  I wondered if my hair was flowing in the same manner, but in a more manly fashion, like Fabio. Maybe I could do shampoo commercials.  

After my mind snapped out of it's flight of fancy and refocused on our flight to safety, I started worrying about what I was going to tell Kellie if anything happened to her pets.  Kellie would be more likely to forgive a marital indiscretion than any harm to her precious dogs.  Luckily, I don’t have to worry about explaining either scenario.  We escaped, unharmed, but the brief sprint made my hair all nasty sweaty, nothing a little shampoo and conditioner couldn't fix.