A Coyote In The Burbs

We caught two more mice: one yesterday and one last night, which reminded me of a story about one girls' weekend with my sisters. It involves a cabin in the woods, a mouse problem and the worst hospitality EVER.

But that will have to wait. Because when I took the boys outside to play after lunch we walked around the garage to the backyard to find a COYOTE sitting out by the swing set.

He was lying down, so at first I thought it was a strange dog, which was enough to slow me down. Then he stood up. I saw the long legs, bushy tail and brown-gray color, and something in the back of my brain fired up. "Hey, didn't someone at the neighborhood meeting say something about seeing a coyote around here? Coyote?  COYOTE?  HOLY CRAP THAT'S A COYOTE!"

I immediately yelled at the boys to go to the garage because we had to go inside RIGHT NOW. I'm thinking "Don't look like prey. Don't look like prey. Don't look like prey."

I must have scared the kids, because they ran to do exactly what I ordered. I shepherded them to the garage door, away from the backyard and the coyote, punched in the code, rushed them in and closed the door behind us. 

We went in the house and I grabbed my phone and went out the back door. I yelled at the coyote and it just looked at me for a minute before turning and trotting off into the trees.

Have I mentioned that I live in the suburbs?

And it was noon?

And my yard is pretty wide open?

YIKES!

I didn't even have the presence of mind to take a picture for all of you!

When I decided to stay home with the kids I expected to deal with sickness, but I did not expect to have to drive off wild animals.

I made a flurry of phone calls, and was told Animal Control wouldn't come out unless the coyote was in my living space. Note to self: Hotline operators do not appreciate sarcasm. Asking if I should invite it into my living room did not go over well.

Anyway, Animal Control did send someone out within the hour, and thankfully the lady saw the coyote when she was driving around our neighborhood. She said it shouldn't be out in the open in broad daylight and she thought it looked sick. So now DNR will come out and trap it.

Until it's gone I'm not taking my kids outside. I don't even want to think about what could have happened if one of the boys had gone to backyard to play in the sandbox while I helped someone else off a bike and brought up the rear. After all, compared to our friend Wile E., they are snack-sized.

At some point in my mildly freaked out back and forth with my hubby, he texted me this: "Neither of us would have lasted long on the frontier!"

I beg to differ. My first thought was to kill that bugger. And he sat there so long I could have loaded my rifle (if I were living on the frontier and had one hanging over the door, mind you), straightened my apron, smoothed my hair and stepped out on the back porch to solve the problem. I texted that to Jeff and finished with, "Of course then you'd have to deal with it. I might kill it, but I don't do dead."

Nothing like a brush with a coyote to make you appreciate little problems with mice and dead squirrels!

© Trippin' Mama 2010