A Walk on the Wild Side

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Pip was supposed to go poop when she instead stared intently at some roadside brush. I tried to nudge her, but she wouldn’t budge. She saw something but didn’t move, which made me think it wasn’t a rat or a squirrel or a rabbit—the usual suspects she’ll chase. I hoped it wasn’t a rattlesnake.

I hoped correctly.

Staring back at us was an injured or ill owl that had made some metaphysical connection with our geriatric, gentle-souled dog. We were about 100 yards from our house, with a street crew not even noticing the large bird just sitting there. It had chosen its final resting spot well: If it hadn’t been for Pip, I wouldn’t have noticed either. By the time I got home and had tried to find someone to come get the ailing bird of prey (learning that the city no longer has an official animal control department), it was dark and she was gone. No feathers and no blood had me hoping she vanished on her own accord.

Such wildlife encounters are common yet infrequent where I live. Since moving next to a giant natural preserve in the middle of suburbia, I’ve:


  • Come face to face with a mountain lion
  • Jumped into my car to avoid a rattlesnake underfoot
  • Been sequestered by another, baby rattlesnake sunning itself on my mini porch
  • Been attacked by a red hawk protecting her nest
  • Had a dinner party disrupted by a pack of coyotes
  • Helped deer cross a busy street
  • Listened to a raccoon "orgy" outside a bedroom window
  • And watched an owl in its final hours

    • As unnerving as some of these close encounters were, I feel so grateful to live where I can experience them. It is hard to describe how unique it is to live in a large city and yet walk down the street and feel like I’m in the country.

    On weekends, we’ll watch people vying for parking and know that isn’t an issue. Recently I got to show a dear friend a new trail I knew she’d never taken. Some Sundays, I’ll hike out to a “waterfall” midway along the main trail. I’ve yet to go the main trail’s entire distance and back (14 miles to and from my house). Someday I will, maybe even by running them. I just have to figure out how after learning today my persistent hip pain is from a nasty bone spur, not self-diagnosed bursitis. A pity, given bursitis can be healed.

    So now I need to decide how far to push it. And what it will cost me. I have an anti-inflammatory cream and other meds to manage the pain. And yet another referral for physical therapy. The doctor warned that managing the pain may be all I can do. That’s OK. It’s at least something I can do. And will.

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