HAVE YOU EVER HEARD COYOTES AT NIGHT?

Ok, so I’m not what you’d call a country gal. I grew up in a small town and moved around a lot, living most of my life in towns and small cities. I’ve had my fair share of outdoor experiences though. Somehow this urban/suburban gal met and married a Davy Crockett wanna be so, when I was young and adventurous, The Frontiersman was actually able to convince me to go fishing with him. One time, he even talked me into going squirrel hunting with him. I ended up crying when he finally shot a squirrel, so we decided I’m not really a good hunting partner for him.

We did camp a lot when our kids were young. We started out in a basic tent. If it was good enough for the Davy Crockett types, it was good enough for us, right? Right…until the night the monsoon came. That was the last time I’ve ever seen the inside of a tent, thank God! After that, The Frontiersman knew our camping days were over unless we bought a camper.

For several weeks, we checked out nearby campgrounds, and finally found a small camper that we could afford. For the next several summers, our vacations were spent camping. (Oh the stories I could tell you.)

From 1995-2006 I managed to drag The Frontiersman back to civilization; we lived in Northern Virginia. Two years ago, he decided it was time to think about retirement and getting back to nature. Here we go again. We bought a house on 24 acres of land in a very rural area of Western New York State.

In the 2 1/2 years we’ve lived here, I’ve seen an array of small wild animals, lots of deer and even a real, live black bear. Last night was the icing on the cake. The Frontiersman had fallen asleep down stairs, our college-age son was in his man cave in the basement, playing a game on the Internet, with his ear buds on. I was in bed, upstairs, with the TV on. I had been working on homework for the business class I’m taking, but was nearly asleep when I heard the most ungodly sound I’ve ever heard. I sat bolt upright. At first, in my grogginess, I thought it was something on TV, but quickly realized I had a comedy show on, so it wasn’t likely those mournful cries came from the TV. As I became more fully awake, the sound seemed to encompass the house. Did we suddenly have very loud, very sad ghosts?

We have two little Miniature Pinschers who were both asleep at the end of the bed, under the covers. As the reverberating sound continued, they scampered out from under the covers and sat at the end of the bed, hugging each other, with their ears pricked up, worriedly glancing from side-to-side, as the chorus of howling continued.

Have you ever heard coyotes at night? The sound of their baying is so haunting. It sounds so close and so far away at the same time.

Since we live in a hollow, it had the effect of surround sound in a movie theater. I swear, it scared me so much I thought the coyotes were coming through my upstairs window at any second. I couldn’t even immediately think what to do (I know you want to be near me in an emergency).

As my senses returned, I darted down the stairs to find The Frontiersman snoring to the point of sucking the walls in, so I continued down the basement stairs. My son, the computer genius, was completely involved in the game he was playing and didn’t hear a thing. How can you not hear a sound that is making the entire house vibrate? I called to him in a breathless, scared-to-death voice and asked him if he had heard the coyotes. He shot me a look that not only told me he hadn’t heard them, but that he thought I had been dreaming. He did, however, manage to unglue himself from his chair and meet me at the open inside basement door. We stood there for a few seconds, listening for that frightening sound, but it didn’t come again. I instructed him to close the door and to put a nearby 2″ x 4′ piece of wood under the door knob to ensure the coyotes weren’t going to come barreling through.

All I can tell you is that if I never hear the sound of coyotes in the night again, I’ll be happy as a clam.

If you’ve had this experience, tell me about it.