Allow me to try to regale you with a looney tale.

It was an uncharacteristically cool but windy evening when we took our furry son for his evening walk. Because we live on a golf course, we have become avid golf ball hunters. [Bonus points for non white balls!] This is a hobby of which I am positive will result in a rattlesnake bite at some point … but I digress.

We were walking along the edge of a green we hadn’t traversed in a long while when I noticed a coyote crossing the green about 100 yards from us. We stopped in our tracks and I watched my husband’s brain smoke through various scenarios. He suggested we turn around when I told him it was already gone and, if I hadn’t spotted it, we wouldn’t have even known it was there at all. I’ll be honest — I was just thinking about the golf ball treasures to be found. Besides, I said, we are upwind from it. That’s right, folks, I’m a modern day Davy Crockett!

We continued on our path but I found I was looking out for wildlife more than golf balls at this point. We reached the end of the green and rounded the flag to head back on the other side. Mind you, for those maybe not paying attention, we are now downwind from the coyote sighting.

We cut through to a trail that leads to the maintenance road when we heard a violent flapping sound behind us. We both stopped in our tracks and immediately realized it was only the golf flag flapping in a huge, sudden gust of wind.

However….

Directly below the flag that serendipitously caught our attention, looking straight at us like Wile E. Coyote, was the coyote contemplating the savory reward of capturing a Shih Tzu. I could only see his head and ears above the crest of the hill but there was no mistaking the laser locked eyes and I would not have been the least bit surprised to see an ACME rocket strapped to its back.

Time slowed down but my heart rate doubled. In a blink of an eye, I had snatched Chewbacca by the convenient handle attached to the back of his harness and walked in the opposite direction as my husband took the stance of someone ready to wrestle a coyote with a stick and a rock — caveman style.

Weirdly, in the exact same moment that my husband felt that he could, without a doubt, fight a coyote bare-handed, I felt incredibly vulnerable and bare-necked. Meanwhile, Chewbacca was probably just wondering how he went from sniffing a rock to being pressed against his mama’s chest in a millisecond.

We will be our evening walks a little earlier from now on … and; most likely, dressed in survival gear — Rambo style.