Wile E. Petting
A wild coyote allowed me to pet and touch it. When I was in elementary school we moved to a house close to a lagoon. I’ve always loved animals, dogs in particular and I thought it was a lost dog. It was trotting down the street alone toward me.
So I checked it for a collar. I did all the “I’m not a threat” dog body language to approach. It stood there, watching, while I eventually got close. It never acted submissive to me. Never licked my hand like a dog does.
But stood relaxed and dominant. It allowed me gently to run my hand up over its shoulder and into the thick red ruff of it’s neck while I checked for a collar. No collar. It smelled warm. Like sagebush or chapparal. It smelled…wild? It smelled nothing like a dog.
It gave me this side eye look while I had my realisation of just who or what I was petting then trotted off again. Middle of the empty street. Owned the whole world. Easy peasy, no big deal. My coyote.
Story credit: Reddit / SparksFromFire