Trump the Coyote

There have been a flurry of daytime coyote sitings in my neighborhood. I’ve seen them at 8am and 2pm, and neighbors have reported them all over the place, at all times of the day. I’m terrified of the coyotes, not for me, but for my little 21-pound dog Freckles who walks almost exclusively off leash. Freckles is small and chubby and slow. He would be an easy target for one of the hungry neighborhood coyotes. I used to be mainly worried about night walks on the dimly lit streets around my house, but these days I’m worried about Freckles at all hours.

--

--

--

I write about seemingly mundane experiences that are relatable because we are human. Subscribe on Substack to get my stories directly: lauraculberg.substack.com

Love podcasts or audiobooks? Learn on the go with our new app.

Recommended from Medium

A Letter to the Moderate Republican in your Life

Trump Accidentally Reveals His True Agenda — Again

How This Bernie Supporter Came To Despise Bernie Sanders

Beyond the DREAMers: The Parents and Their Stories

Social Media Politicians, Fighting to be heard, Russian Navalny jailed with Thousands on the…

Are Parrots Trying To Tell Us Something?

Was 2021 a Lost Year for You?

Why I think the SF Bicycle Coalition should not endorse Sonja Trauss

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Laura Culberg- Welcoming Opposites

Laura Culberg- Welcoming Opposites

I write about seemingly mundane experiences that are relatable because we are human. Subscribe on Substack to get my stories directly: lauraculberg.substack.com

More from Medium

I Love The Oscars. So Why Do They Hate People Like Me?

Behind the Photograph: Smallpox at Hoffman Island, New York

A group of people stand behind a gate and a fence in front of a building. The image is black and white, and most of the people are men. They are wearing clothes from the turn of the twentieth century.

Migraine and Me