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...