Pets, Nature, Cities and Conflict

Today I woke up to a little dog barking hysterically. "It's nothing," I shrugged, "The owners have just left for work."

Five minutes later I heard a frantic scream. I rolled out of bed and went to the window. Was this an emergency? Would I need to call someone? Domestic abuse? Another loud wail came from a woman down the hill somewhere. It did not sound good. Finally words accompanied the sound.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Huh, maybe I would have to call someone. The woman could be hurt.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! A coyote killed my dog." There was audible sobbing. "Fuck! Fuck! A coyote killed my dog."

(Later in the day my sister told me it was not her friends dog that was killed, but her friends small sweet dwarf Nigerian goat.)

I tried to figure out which neighbor it was. Were they close enough to comfort, to help? It didn't appear to be the pit bull owners close to me. I don't know who it was. I am hoping it isn't my sister's friend at the bottom of the hill. She has an old, rather surly chihuahua mix.

Our pets are our family. They are pieces of our hearts. When we are sad, they are there for us in ways that other humans cannot be.  They accept us without judgment as long as we are kind, and sometimes when we are not. They do not judge our complexity. They are the love that we want from the world and they give us comfort that life is responsive and good.

Heavy raindrops fall in a scattered pattern onto the deck of my cabin. It is an odd drizzle for such an arid time of year. The grass is brown and dead. Only the trees and scrub remain green. The rain seems to evaporate even before it hits the dirt. It is a beautiful morning. But for someone, it is heartbreakingly sad.

This brings me to think about the risks of living in a wild city.

In many ways it is our responsibility to make room for nature and all of it's callousness. We are a part of it, after all.

Nature is not kind. It is not mean. But it can feel cruel in moments like these.

We have many animals visit us in Sunland. There are mountain lions, bobcats, peacocks, hawks, foxes, and many many coyotes. Where I live, there is a llama for guarding the goats from coyotes. Even the llama with his fiercely curled, sickle shaped back teeth would have a difficult time with a mountain lion. Even a horse can be taken down by these sleek graceful wild cats. When I walk at night, I often wonder if I am being watched by sharp eyes. Alone outside in the dark I often hear the yipping frenzied calls of the coyotes echoing from canyon walls. The sounds are so loud many times I feel like they are right behind the nearest tree.

Conflict is inevitable.

Here is a link to This American Life's episode, "When the Beasts Come Marching In."

https://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/582/when-the-beasts-come-marching-in

This podcast discusses how we deal with the nature that surrounds us. It is a humorous, dark reminder of both our own power and simultaneous struggle to maintain our place at top of the food chain by separating ourselves from the very thing we are a part of.