A six-hour traffic filled drive tested our resolve as we journeyed from Cape Cod back to the Green Mountain State. The fleeting exhilaration of vacation had passed with each mile traveled. Two weeks of memories packed blissfully away. Our little yellow house sat quietly on the hill upon approach. The gravel crackled under the weight of our car as we wound our way up the drive. Home. Our adopted home…
A brownish black puffy furred coyote stood firmly in place just yards away from the far side of our small house. Stance, firm. Poised to confront. A stare of dominance had me quickly ushering the dogs into the house while my heart raced. The sun porch provided a safe vantage point to assess. Two red and white dogs were tightly tucked by my side as I tried to scare the unwanted visitor away. Wild expansive arms gestured and flailed through the stale house air while my loud disinhibited shouts seemed to impact my ears only. The coyote’s resolve was firmer than mine. Claim staked. Void of further argument, the challenge nullified as he had as much right to roam freely as I. Knowing he would stay or not I quieted and observed. In his own time, he trotted off into the dark cool woods…
“There are no wild animals until man makes them so.” Mark Twain
