The woman left, and a few minutes later, Pica’s heart slowed. When she could think clearly, she realized with surprise that she no longer had anything on her leg or her neck. She was free of all the odd contraptions that the humans had put on her. Next, she realized that she was standing almost naturally on all four legs! Her bad leg felt tender but the sharp pain from before was gone. She looked around her new space with wonder. There were trees, bushes, and a small pond. It was much bigger than the previous enclosures. She spent the next hour gingerly walking around, sniffing every inch of it. She smelled other coyotes, squirrels, and birds, but there didn’t seem to be any animals there at the moment.
When she had satisfied her curiosity, she sat down and, now free of the object around her neck, inspected her sides and stomach. Licking carefully at first, she was surprised to notice that her wounds didn’t feel sore anymore. She could feel the rough lines of scarring, but overall, she felt pretty good. Feeling an odd wave of euphoria wash over her, she jumped up, spinning around and running as fast as she could toward the other end of the pen. She felt an ache in her leg, but it wasn’t terrible. When she got to the edge, she leaned to the side, cornering to turn in the other direction. After a few seconds like this, her brain felt calmer and she stopped, breathing hard. It had been so long since she had run.
The euphoria wore off quickly, and the day passed like any other. She walked around, waiting for something to happen, but the day passed without event and it became night. She tucked herself under some bushes with a sigh. She was surprised at how quickly her earlier joy had worn off. Life here had tended to alternate between traumatizing and boring, and she had no control over when anything happened. She was lonely and wondered how long she would be here. Would she die here? With that thought, she laid her head down and fell asleep.
More days passed like this, and Pica began to lose all hope. However, one day, something important changed. There was a small door in the fencing of the enclosure, and today it opened for the first time with a squeak. She turned her head listlessly, but her eyes opened wide as she glimpsed a streak of soft brown fur. She yelped, jumping up and backwards. What was it? A live rabbit shot through the door and into the enclosure. Her heart started pounding, and instinctively, she froze. The rabbit, now in the middle of the enclosure, froze as well. For a moment, they stared at one another. Pica held her breath. This was by far the most interesting thing that had happened to her since she arrived.
It only took Pica about five seconds to corner and kill the animal. She noticed that it was slower than the rabbits she had seen before, and although she wondered briefly why that was, the thrill of catching and eating her prey overtook any other thought. Something in her body woke up, and for the rest of the day, she couldn’t stop trotting around the enclosure, smiling to herself and again sniffing the trail that the rabbit had taken when trying to evade her. She replayed the chase in her mind, savouring the moment where she had pounced and felt the rabbit beneath her paws. It had been so easy! Even though her leg still felt a little stiff and weak, the chase had felt fluid and natural. She couldn’t lie down, pacing around and wondering if it would happen again.
And it did. Day after day, live prey was pushed into the enclosure for her to eat. Each animal seemed to be more agile than the last, challenging her to practise her intense focus, following their flight closely, cutting from side to side and pouncing at the right time. She didn’t always get them the first time, and was often slightly off her mark on the pounce, but with every success she became more confident. She had never before had such a frequent opportunity to practise her pouncing, and felt happy knowing she was getting better.
Days passed and her leg began to feel almost normal again. She noticed her fur growing back thickly, and her back and side didn’t feel sore anymore when she cleaned herself. She still felt lonely, but at least she finally had something to look forward to each day.
Alyssa
Alyssa arrived at work that day feeling oddly emotional. After many weeks of treating little Callie, they had decided that she was ready for release. It had been a long journey, but she looked fit and healthy, with only a few patchy areas on her fur indicating that anything had been wrong. Her eye had not improved, and they were fairly certain she was completely blind on that side. Despite this, she had shown herself able to catch her own prey, so there was no reason to keep her anymore.
Although she was happy to see Callie get another chance, Alyssa worried. It was still the middle of winter, and cold. Callie was still so young, probably only eight or nine months old, and if she didn’t reunite with her pack again, she would find it very hard to fend for herself. She might unwittingly enter a rival pack’s territory, or have forgotten how to navigate streets and traffic. Alyssa wanted to know what would happen to Callie, but knew that after releasing her back into the city, she would probably never see the little coyote again.
They had debated for a long time about where to release Callie. Generally, they tried to release the animals in the spot where they had been captured. If they did this, the animal would have its bearings and be much more likely to find its family again. She had heard of stories where people released an animal somewhere new, and inevitably it would be a disaster, the animal either getting killed by rival coyotes or travelling great distances trying to find its way back home. However, the schoolyard was less than ideal as a release point. After being given her freedom, Callie would have to figure out somewhere else to go by the time the kids arrived at school. After much back and forth, the decision was finally made. They would release her on Friday night in the schoolyard so she would have a whole weekend to find her pack or a new home.
Alyssa waited until it got dark, grabbed a mug of tea, and found the volunteer, Sarah, who would be helping her. They loaded Callie’s crate into the back of her truck and drove to the schoolyard. Sarah tried to make conversation in the passenger seat, but Alyssa didn’t feel like chatting, and gave mostly one-syllable responses. Finally, they were there. They carefully put the crate down, opened the door, and returned to the truck, climbing in the cab to watch. A few seconds later, they saw a slim, grey shadow slip out from the crate, gallop across the field, and disappear into the bushes at the far end. Alyssa watched, feeling sad to see her go, but also joyful that they had been able to give her a chance. They loaded the crate back into the truck, and without a word, Alyssa turned on the engine and drove away. Now, she could only hope that she never heard about this little coyote again.
Pica
The field was dark and a cold, icy layer covered the grass. Pica shivered. She did a slow lap of the field, sniffing every tree and bush. She could hardly believe that she was free. At first she was exuberant — she knew where she was! Soon, though, she realized with a sinking heart that there wasn’t a single trace of her family in the area. They were long gone. She spent the evening moving in ever-increasing circles, desperate to find their scent. However, after many long hours of searching, she was left with aching paws, a sore back leg, and a sense of hopelessness. It had been weeks, maybe months, since her pack had been here. By now, they could be anywhere.
She found herself shivering as the sky slowly began to lighten. It took a bit of searching to find a quiet spot in a back alley where she could settle down, out of sight. It wasn’t a great spot, but it would have to do for the day. She needed time to make a plan. All day she lay restlessly, thinking about her options. She could strike out in a random direction each night, hoping her family had not gone too far and that she would eventually pick up on a scent trail. She could look for a new home base, and then try to explore from there. Or maybe if she just picked a direction, she would get lucky. The hopeless feeling began to well up in her. There were endless places where her family could be, and exploring the city to look for them was difficult and dangerous. She still wasn’t that confident in finding food, crossing streets, and avoiding other coyotes. How was she going to survive at all, let alone survive while looking for them?
> Night finally fell, and Pica got up and stretched. Her leg was stiff, but not sore. She hadn’t come to any decisions and decided to just head in any direction until she thought of a better plan. She could look for food along the way. She cautiously left her sleeping spot and walked along the alley, keeping her nose and ears alert for signs of danger or food. The night was cold and clear and a small sliver of moon gave her some light to see by. She tried to remember all of the instructions her parents had given her for travelling through the city. Slowly, she made her way forward, ducking often to hide from cars, and using her nose to search for food.
Pica changed direction frequently, avoiding any scent markings that indicated other coyote territory. Other than a few skunks and raccoons, she didn’t see any animals. Then, cutting through the cold night air, she heard a familiar sound. A high blast followed by a deep, low rumbling. A train! Memories of her journey fleeing the hillside rushed back at her. Drawn to the familiar memories, she found herself heading toward the sound, and a few minutes later, she reached a knoll that looked down onto the train track. She recognized the smells and knew that she had passed through here before with her family.
An odd feeling shivered through her body. Standing on the ties, she felt closer than ever to her family. From here, she knew where she was and how to get back to the hillside. Even though she knew that her family was no longer living there, she longed to feel like she was in a familiar place again. Then, she had a thought. There were lots of coyotes in the area around the hillside that had known her parents. They weren’t all as aggressive as Jagger. Maybe, if she returned to the area, she could ask them if they had heard anything about her family. It was a long shot, but one of them might know something.
An image of Jagger’s sneering face flashed through her mind. If he caught her in the area, she had no doubt that he would try to kill her. However, if she didn’t find out more information, she had no hope of finding her family, and that prospect was worse than potentially meeting Jagger. Taking a deep breath, she made the decision to turn left on the train tracks, and return to her childhood home.
NINETEEN
DECISION
Scruff
After leaving Mala behind, Scruff continued on until he arrived at a small rocky beach next to the ocean. There, a storm drain poured dirty water onto the sand, and it trickled out to the ocean, smelling like gasoline and metal. Bits of plastic and metal littered the beach. Other than the smell, it was a pretty good spot. Lots of bushes, no other coyote smell, and there was less snow here, right by the water. He curled up on a soft patch of green ground, tucked under a fat cedar bush, and fell asleep.
He woke a few hours later, feeling rested. As he stood, his paws throbbed a bit, and as he stretched, he could feel his hind leg muscles. The strain of the last few days was taking its toll. He was also extremely hungry and thirsty. He hesitated, thinking about his next move. He knew he couldn’t make his home here, and thought more about what Mala had said about the land on the other side of the bridge. Maybe if he went there he would get away from the feelings of guilt and sadness that had followed him ever since leaving the hillside.
He trotted down to the water, sniffing and looking around. By the muted traffic sounds and the light, it appeared to be around the middle of the day. He decided to continue travelling, and if he reached the park before dusk, he would try to cross. He would give himself the day to think about whether he wanted to try going over the bridge or whether he would return to his train spot.
His progress was much slower than he had expected. The beach didn’t run continuously along next to the water, but was interrupted often by buildings, people, parking lots, and piers. Because it was the middle of the day, it was difficult to find alleys and backyards quiet enough to allow him to continue travelling without being spotted.
Finally, coming around the corner of a quiet stretch of beach, he smelled it. The familiar scent of pine and cedar trees, and fresh, clean air blowing toward him. It was intoxicating, the new smells sweetly humming on top of the rest of the strong, oily city odours. He spotted a long stretch of forest alongside the water, just a short walk away. He paused and looked out over the ocean. He wanted so much to push on, but had to accept that the light was quickly fading. He felt strong, but not strong enough to enter a dangerous territory at dusk, when Storm and her pack would likely be active. He would find a spot to wait out the night, and then he would attempt the crossing the next day.
He found a quiet cluster of bushes beside a parking lot and, after investigating the area, decided it would be safe for the night. He closed his eyes, but thoughts kept crowding his brain. Lamar falling into the hole. Pica’s large, sad eyes. Jagger’s face, cold and expressionless. His mother’s gentle tongue. All of the sadness of his life seemed to crowd in to find somewhere in his brain to sit, making him feel heavier and heavier. A vision of Lamar, standing strong with hackles raised, pushed in front of all his other thoughts. He sighed, frustrated, and stood, making three more circles in the dirt before curling up again. He tried to push the thoughts from his mind. But they stayed, weighing on him.
He wondered whether it would be possible to leave them behind simply by crossing the bridge. Behind tightly closed eyes, Lamar appeared again, and then Jagger, too. They were both staring at him. Suddenly, an old thought resurfaced, making him open his eyes in surprise. Had Jagger been telling him the truth about his family? Did Lamar really kill his parents? He had tried not to think about this for a long time, but now that it had come up, he couldn’t stop. Jagger had been so good to him when he was a pup — he wouldn’t be alive without him. However, Jagger had lied about his plans to kill Lamar. How could he be sure that Jagger had told the truth about the deaths of Scruff’s parents?
His mind raced. If Lamar hadn’t killed his parents, who had? Was Jagger guilty? But if so, why would he have rescued Scruff? He closed his eyes again, trying to block out all of the unsettling questions. There was nothing he could do about it right now.
Many hours later, he finally sensed dawn. Standing up, he felt heavy. It was still quite early, but he decided to get going. He could find some more food before getting to the forest, and wait at the edge until it was the right time. He couldn’t stay still anymore, trapped with his thoughts.
An hour later he found himself at the end of an alley that opened out to the park. He stopped behind a garbage bin to observe the situation. In front of him was a soft, sandy beach. There were a few humans walking and jogging along it, but it was still early morning and it was mostly quiet. On his left was the ocean, and to the right of the beach was a busy road that ran alongside the ocean as far as he could see.
He found a bush to hide under and surveyed the scene, waiting patiently as the sun rose higher in the sky. He wanted to make sure that Storm and her pack had the highest chance of being asleep. The beach became busier, with some people riding bikes, walking their dogs, and sitting on benches. It seemed now like it was almost swarming with humans, and he had no idea how he was going to get through them all. He had never willingly launched himself into the open in an area full of humans in the broad daylight.
Finally, he couldn’t delay any longer. The sun was directly above him. With a deep breath, he eased out from under the bush and trotted into the open. He had his eye on a clump of bushes at the far end of the beach — if he could just get through the crowds, it looked like a safe sanctuary.
Almost immediately, a bike loomed in front of him, and he heard screeching brakes and shouting. He shut his eyes and dove to the side, waiting to feel the impact. He felt only the sidewalk. Getting up, he saw the bike had stopped just a few feet from where he stood, and he took off away from it at a full gallop. Humans scattered to the side of the path as he ran along it. He chose the straightest route to the bushes and tried to get there as quickly as he could. The beach was longer than he had expected.
He was breathing hard now. Sustaining a gallop for more than a minute was something he rarely did. Finally, he rea
ched the bushes, which marked the edge of the forest. This made him nervous, because he didn’t know where Storm and her pack would be hanging out. His only option, if he wanted to avoid the forest, was to follow a narrow pathway clogged by humans that bordered the water. He took a few deep breaths, and then set off again into the crowds, shivering as his fur made gentle contact with one of the humans. He heard shouts from all sides, and braced himself, but nothing hit him.
A few minutes later, something above him caught his eye. He looked up and saw a massive metal bridge reaching out over the water as far as he could see. This must be the bridge to the new land! The sound of cars and trucks driving on it was deafening. There was an open area directly under the bridge, with low scrubby bushes and no humans, and he stopped there to catch his breath. On both sides of him now was water. The park was essentially a small peninsula, and he had reached the tip.
He sat there, the noise over his head making it hard to think. Was he really ready to leave this world behind and try out a new life on the other side of the bridge? He was so close to just getting up and doing it, but something held him back. His thoughts returned to his parents. Could he really go on without ever knowing the truth about his family? Scruff felt his head pounding. He had so many unanswered questions.
Then, all of a sudden, it was clear to him. He had to go back to the hillside and confront Jagger, make him tell the truth. He needed to know what had happened to his family and why he had grown up with Jagger. He didn’t know what he would do with the information, but he knew instinctively that without it, he wouldn’t be able to start fresh.
Street Shadows Page 11