Now, I’m a vigilant dog mom. I’ve got fences, gates, lights, and the kind of situational awareness usually reserved for Secret Service agents. My little Papillon, Blueberry, never sets a paw outside without me. We go as a team, like a very small and furry version of the Secret Service detail I mentioned—minus the suits, though Blueberry would totally rock a tiny one.
But a few days ago, we were walking our old boy, Kobe—fifteen years old, gentle as a cloud, moving at a dignified senior pace. He stopped to sniff a bush. Harmless, right? A completely innocent dog moment. Except—apparently—not.
Because that harmless bush… growled.
Before I could even process what was happening, a coyote shot out of it like it was launched from a cartoon cannon. I swear, my heart nearly left my body and ran home without me. Kobe barked, I yelled, the coyote lunged, and chaos briefly ruled the land.
Thankfully, we managed to scare it off, and Kobe, bless his brave old heart, walked away with nothing worse than a dramatic little scar on his snout—what I now refer to as his pirate mark. He’s proud. He looks like he’s auditioning for an action movie. I, on the other hand, aged ten years in ten seconds.
If it had been my little Blueberry… I can’t even think about it. My sweet five-pound fluff would’ve been in serious danger, and the idea makes me feel physically ill. I try to protect her every moment of every day. But sometimes, life throws coyotes into your bushes—literally—and there’s nothing you can do about it except learn, breathe, and be grateful it ended okay.
That night, while I was still shaking and Blueberry was snoring like nothing ever happened, I started thinking: isn’t that just life in general? You can plan, you can prepare, you can put up fences—but sometimes, something wild jumps out of the bushes anyway.
And all we can do is hold our loved ones close, keep our eyes open, and maybe—just maybe—avoid sticking our noses where they don’t belong.
Although, let’s be honest—if Blueberry did stick her nose in a bush again, she’d probably expect it to produce treats, not wildlife.
So, here’s my heartfelt (and slightly frazzled) takeaway: life’s full of surprises, not all of them pleasant—but sometimes they come with a reminder to appreciate what really matters. Also, maybe invest in a good flashlight and a coyote-sized sense of humor.

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