Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Ordinary Perfection

It was a perfectly ordinary Monday night.  The air was just cool enough to be invigorating.  The spring breeze brushed my hair against my ear, and I heard whispers of pastels and peace.  Cooper and I were out for an evening stroll and all was well with us and with the world.

Ordinary perfection.

But as we were walking back to the house Cooper did something unusual.  He stopped in his tracks and slowly craned his head around to look behind us.  I hadn't heard a car or anything so I looked back to see what had gotten his attention.

It was a wild coyote.

He was standing in the middle of the road, looking at us.  Hungrily, I might add.  

I started to walk ahead calmly.  I looked back and saw the coyote was following us.  I sped up and so did he.  

That's when I let go of Cooper's leash and told him to run home.  He's faster than me and I figured he was the main attraction anyway.  Cooper took off.  

I started running too.  I looked over my shoulder and saw that the coyote was coming after me.  Thank God I made it home before I found out who was faster - the coyote or me.

Frantically, I opened the back door and Cooper and I zoomed into the kitchen like two bullets hitting a Manhattan phone book.  Grant was making his lunch for tomorrow and Audrey was putting her hair up in pink sponge rollers.  I stood doubled over the counter, panting and dripping sweat.  

"What HAPPENED?" Audrey asked.

"Is this mayonnaise expired?" Grant asked.  

"There.  Was.  A.  Coyote.  I.  Think."  I gasped.  Audrey rushed to hug me.  Grant ran into the backyard to see if he could catch a glimpse of the coyote.  He didn't.


When I recovered my breath I sent a similar text message to a few friends and neighbors.

Their responses were very different, which is what I love about all the people in my life.

My neighbor responded:
"Apparently they are all over...they can be sneaky...pretty cool, though, right?"  (It's nice to have people in your life who remind you that "scary" and "pretty cool" are just twins separated at birth.)

My BFF said:
"Oh jeez!  We have no coyotes in Califorina.  Just sayin"  (She knows that I'm too lazy to do a google search and find out that there are actually MORE coyotes in California than in Tennessee.)

My man said:
"Wha???  Are you okay???"  (So sweet!  Clearly I was fine because I was texting but still his first reaction was to make sure I was okay.  Love that guy.)

Another friend said:
"You turned yourself into prey when you started running."  (Good point.  But I don't think I could have stopped myself.  I mean, who could?  Well, except for maybe Grant, who ran towards the danger.)


I think I'll always remember that night.  Partly because it's the night Cooper and I didn't get killed by a coyote. 

But more than that ...

It was the night when the wild and the domesticated co-existed, sort of.    The night when the lines between scary and "pretty cool" blurred.  The night when the the winds blew pastels and peace one minute, and the next they carried the scent of prey to the hunter. 

It was the night when the ordinary and the extraordinary were both perfect in their own sacred way.