The number one rule of not becoming prey is not acting like prey. If you’re being stalked, confront. If you’re being looked over, meet their eyes and do not look down. Bare your teeth if you must; it’s a very primal and effective form of communication. The thing to remember is that no predator, animal or human, wants to risk getting hurt when there is always easier prey to be found.
Now, of all the blow-hard disguised as city boys giving advice, this rings most true to me. A Montana girl who used to ride alone in the hills at all hours of the day, any season. Most of the time I took a dog with me. Blue before he got too old, Sargeant before he went nuts and Shadow before he got hit by a car…
Wait… That sounds like a really bad track record. FYI, not all my fault.
The point is this. I was the top of the food chain there. Every time. And I knew it. The neighbor dog comes at me?
I dig my heels in and run up at him. 1200lbs of sweaty horse tend to frighten dogs away and make them behave. Especially when the person on top is yelling at them to “go home”.
On the ground? I’m not much different. Your dog gets pissy with me? Even on the street? I will stare him down or tell him to knock it off. Never. Ever. Ever. Run. From. Pissed. Dog.
You just became meals on wheels.
But out in the woods, in the hills or in the wilds?
Some tiny little thing on foot?
What I find remarkable is that a) she was close enough to other people that they heard her screams b) the police where there soon enough to shoot one of the furry nibblers.
So. That kinda puts a damper on the assumption that she was idiotically walking miles away from sight and the normally sensitive and delicate psyche of the misunderstood carnivore was overwhelmed by her proximity and their desire for some tender loin.
I wonder if we really do taste like chicken? Or pork. I have heard people taste like pork. Which would explain parts of the kosher thing.
Here’s a thought… And since no one can refute it, I get to throw it out to the wilds of teh interwebs.
What if she saw the coyotes, and in typical hippie delight fashion, tried to “friend” them? Did she hold out the remains of her sandwich, with her hand all smelling like TVP and garlic and beckon them closer? Hoping, perhaps, for a “Mutual of Omaha” moment as she listened to the call of the wild?
As they crept closer, did she squat down to their level becoming equal or less threatening? So these poor (albeit salivating) carnivores could get close and no longer fear her?
Right before they tried to tag team her and eat her alive…
Complete and utter speculation and an abhorrent waste of a talented young life.
But there’s a lesson here to be learned, I think.
If you don’t want to look like lunch to the sharks?
Don’t act like a smorgasboard.