Tuesday, May 31, 2011

The Move

Sleeping on the kitchen floor was not an everyday occurrence. Most eight year olds would have considered it an adventure, but not me. We had just moved away from Cedar Hill—a small town in Texas on the outskirts of Dallas. I enjoyed my school, had tons of friends to play with and life was great . . . until we moved.

Laughing, loud enough to wake me, echoed around the tiny kitchen of the single-wide trailer home. Opening my eyes shouldn’t have been a scary thing to do, but as soon as I did my body shook with fear. Three curious coyotes stood with paws resting on the window ledge, peering in at us.

I cried.

Coyotes were not things I wanted to see. The run down trailer was not where I wanted to live. The middle of nowhere . . . not for me. Yet, my parents insisted on subjecting me to it.

"I think they're hungry," my father or brother said. Honestly I cannot remember who said it, but the comment was like a cruel joke I wasn't ready for yet.

After streams of continuous teases--at my expense--my mother came to the rescue and told me why the coyotes were there, but her explanation did little to calm my nerves about the new life adventure we were on.

2 comments:

  1. Those coyotes would have scared the bejeezus out of me! I grew up in a rural area and am well familiar will all sorts of wild animals, but to have them peering in the windows at me? Um, no thanks. Especially not when they're hungry! ;c)

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  2. Yeah, can we say FREAKY? They were so curious. I cannot remember how long they stood there watching us, but it was long enough to make me want to run and hide. ;-)

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