I am not a chicken. I am not a “fraidy-cat”. I am not a wimp that runs away. I stand my ground. I bark in the face of danger. I am true to my terrier ancestors.
Until I heard coyotes.
Diana, Michael and I went on vacation to the beach recently. Awesome, by the way. The place we stayed at had a nice deck so I could look out over the bushes to the dunes. (Really sweet of them to build it for me, don’t you think?)
I made the deck mine. After dinner I stuck my head through the railing begging (so said Michael. I say asking nicely) to go on another walk on the beach.
Anything or anyone that caught my attention got a welcoming barking at. People love it when I bark at them. They smile and say “cute doggie”. Not really the response I was going for, but ok.
On our second evening at the beach, we heard coyotes - off in the distance.
Bark. Bark. Bark.
On our third evening at the beach, we heard coyotes - 20 feet away.
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
I decided to revisit that wimp thing and opt for safety on the sofa, underneath a blanket.
I usually go for the “always be yourself” motto. I say to be me is to bark. This time I went for the “quiet dogs live longer when coyotes are staring at you” motto.
What do you think? What would you have done? Bark back at me. I’m open to suggestions (sort of).