06/01/2026
I WASN’T HUNTING IN YOUR YARD.
I WAS TOO SICK TO STAY HIDDEN.
You saw me in daylight.
Near the fence.
Near the trash cans.
Near the edge of the road where healthy wild things are supposed to know better.
Maybe you thought I was bold.
Maybe you thought I was dangerous.
Maybe you thought I was rabid.
Maybe you thought I had come closer because I had stopped being wild.
But I had not stopped being wild.
I had stopped being well.
I am a coyote.
I was built for distance.
For caution.
For moonlight.
For the quiet work of moving unseen.
But mange does not leave much dignity behind.
First it took my sleep.
Then it took my fur.
Then it took the warmth my body was meant to keep.
Then it took my strength.
Every itch became pain.
Every night became colder.
Every hunt became harder.
And little by little, fear stopped working the way it should.
So you saw me where you were never meant to see me.
In daylight.
Near houses.
Near people.
Not because I wanted you.
Because sickness had already taken too much from me.
Please do not try to touch me.
Do not try to feed me by hand.
Do not try to treat me yourself.
Do not let dogs chase me or confront me.
Keep children and pets away.
Take a photo or video from a safe distance if you can.
Note the exact location.
Then call a licensed wildlife rehabilitator, animal control, or your state wildlife agency for guidance.
Because I was not hunting your yard.
I was losing a battle under my skin
and running out of places
where pain could stay hidden.