A ghost in the woods

Over the holidays, the big Dude and I have not been getting out for his daily walks. With all the parties and visitors and cleaning up and baking, well, we just haven't had much time for it. Lately, the little boys have begun to drive us a little bit crazy with their boundless energy, especially as Grover sprained a muscle in his leg while playing rough and now they can't go outside to romple together. (Don't worry, he's healing fast and will be causing destruction again soon.)
Where was I?
Oh, right.
So, Dashman and I have started taking the terrorists and their daddy (mommy is having a spa vacation in the south again, lucky dog!) on jaunts up the street to the library and back, a good thirty minute walk. While this does do some good for the wee crumb-crunchers, the excess of delightful goodies over the holidays still shows on their poor papa.
So I took pity on him. I mean it's not as if an extra walk a day will do me any harm. Even though I carefully avoided even looking at Christmas cookies and have no need to drop a few pounds. None. :)
Moving on!
So this morning I said the magic word to Big Dude and, while Bird distracted the pooglets, we slipped on the leash and out the door.
We jaunted along, just enjoying the fresh air and each others company, and all those delightful smells on the light poles... Okay, I just watched that part. Anyway, at last the entrance of the park came in view and I tried to get Big Dude to sit down before we crossed the street. Except he wouldn't. He just stared at the road and the park beyond.
And then I saw why.
Walking down the road between the park and a quiet residential neighborhood, there was a man and his dog. More importantly, between us, stood a coyote.
I am a city girl. That being said, it shocked me just a bit to see this.
The man and his dog (a black lab mix I'm pretty sure) continued walking as if this was normal. Maybe it was.  I hadn't been to the park in months, I wouldn't know.
As the space between the two pairs of dog-walkers narrowed, the coyote slipped back into the park. A little nervously, I patted Big Dude and entered the park ahead of the man and his dog. Hey, if Woofie attacked I wanted someone nearby in case I needed rescuing.
We wandered up the path a ways before I turned around to see if Woofie was still in sight. Not only was he still visible, he was following. And not very secretly either. I watched in disbelief as this purportedly shy animal casually skirted the small holding pond between us and walked up about twenty feet away. He stopped parallel to Big Dude and I, and blinked.
At this moment the other dog walker and his dog showed up. Maybe you'd think that Big Dude would be letting out his classic beagle bay at Woofie. After all, it is his first brush with a wild animal. Nope. He was busy making bristles at the lab/cross, who in turn was ignoring him for the coyote, who was busy blinking at me.
"Is that a coyote?" I asked the man. Stupid question, but hey.
"Yup," he said carelessly, and added, "my dog thinks he can beat him up."
Maybe it was the 0.0 look on my face, but at last he said, "Some guy keeps feeding it hot dogs, so its partly domesticated."
I said something forgettable like, "Really?"
He nodded. "Yup, it's still wild though." Kinda like a warning. As if I might just decide to walk up and start petting the thing.
Woofie decided the two dogs were a little intimidating and moved on up the path a bit.
I was thinking of all the stories of half-wild wolves attacking people when they wanted food, and I said, "That's actually kind of scary."
The guy nodded and moved on. So much for my protection.
Ahead the path split three ways, one path leading off to another park, one going farther to loop around the lake, and a smaller gravel path between the two, winding off deeper into the woods. Woofie chose the middle path. I'd told Bird I was going to circle the lake. And Hector protector took off towards the other park.
It didn't matter. I was in the middle of a neighborhood. If I screamed, people would come help, right? On a silent, chilly morning with low grey clouds simulating mist, that thought didn't seem comforting.

So on we poogled. And our silent shadow poogled after us, crossing the woods between our paths effortlessly. Every twenty yards or so I'd stop and turn around. And there he'd be.
At last we reached the lake. Maybe that was the end of his territory, because at that point Woofie just disappeared. We continued around the lake, me wondering if there were more than one coyote in the park, and Big Dude happily unconscious of our encounter with the wild. Part of me was a little upset that he'd handled it all in such a bored manner. Part of me was glad, so glad, that I hadn't brought along the baby heart attacks. They would have died. And another part of me wished I'd thought to bring the camera.
Maybe tomorrow I'll take Big Dude out again. After all, neither of us dropped our holiday pounds on that one slow and halting walk. And hey, I'm not crazy, I'm not going to bring the puppies.
Or hot dogs.

Bunny