The Coyote, The Dog and The Woman

By

Phyllis Peterson Levine

          I was watching reruns of Frazier when my old dog Rosebud put her muzzle on my thigh. I've always had dogs. I'm old now and she will probably be my last. She looked into my eyes and I knew she needed to go out one last time before bed. She followed me to the back door where I pushed my shoulder into the door so that the lock would turn and I flipped on the floodlight in the backyard. Rosie quickly took care of business but instead of coming back inside, like she usually did, she darted from the illuminated area of the yard and disappeared into the darkness. Rosie, Rosie, I called in a hushed voice. I didn't want to disturb the neighbors. Come here Rosie, I called.

          My eyes were searching the darkness when off to the right a movement caught my eye. Walking stiff legged and very slowly with its tail between its legs, a large coyote came into the light. It turned its eyes towards me and they glowed golden. A chill came over me. I thought about Rosie. She was old and domesticated, no match for a wild animal.  She had never seen a coyote. Would she think it was a dog and get too close?

          I slipped my crocs on and stepped outside. I watched the coyote slink across the yard with Rosie walking cautiously a few feet behind. I followed them into the darkness until I couldn't see either one and then I froze.

          Standing in the dark I realized how unnatural I had become.

Phyllis’ creative nonfiction short story, “Connect The Dots,” appeared in the first edition (Fall/2017) of the Gordon Square Review.

One of her poems appeared in the Cuyahoga Community College Literary Journal, The Breakwall.