The Shadow in the Streetlights: My Dance with Urban Coyotes

The Nighttime Coyote Surprise

The first time I saw them, I thought my eyes were messing with me. It was a chilly spring night back in 2013, I think, on Walnut Street near the cemetery in Newton, Massachusetts. Around 9:30 p.m., I was biking home from work. My old rusty bike chain was creaking, my skinny legs (a polite way to describe my chicken legs) pedaling in the cool air. And then I saw them—two of them!

At first, I thought, “Oh, are those foxes in the middle of the street?” But nope. As I got closer, I realized they were bigger—like German shepherd size, but skinny. I yelled at them, and they bolted, disappearing between the tombstones in the cemetery. Maybe that’s where they lived, or maybe they were just sniffing around the neighborhood for a fancy La Pin a La Cocotte (you can Google that!).

Fast forward a whole decade. I was coming back from grabbing some Chinese takeout—fried rice, yum!—and it was drizzling with a bit of fog. That’s when I saw it again. A flash of movement under a streetlight near Edmands Park on Mill Street. Too skinny to be a dog, too wild for my cracked-concrete neighborhood in Newton. It was late, maybe 10:00 p.m. I slowed down, frozen, staring as it turned its head. Its eyes glowed like shiny coins in the light. A coyote! And this one was big—really big! It crossed the street right in front of me. I blinked, and poof—it was gone, vanishing into someone’s yard. This was late February or early March, which is the mating season when male coyotes hunt alone and get super protective of their space.

I’ve lived in Newton since 2011. I’m used to the buzz of cars on Commonwealth Avenue, joggers chatting in Cold Spring Park, or the occasional deer running around. I’ve even seen some friends of Pepé Le Pew waddling by, leaving their stinky trail. But this? This felt like one of my dad’s scary cowboys in some ghost town stories in the night. Except it wasn’t in a ghost town—it was a block from Boston College! Coyotes aren’t supposed to be here, right?

Well, turns out they are. After that second sighting, I looked it up. They’re called urban coyotes. They’ve been sneaking into places like Newton for years, getting used to our neighborhoods like we got used to theirs. They’re survivors—eating trash, hunting rabbits in messy lots, even grabbing a stray cat or tiny dog sometimes. Seeing those “Lost” posters with pictures of little pets is sad, but a coyote probably got them.

They’re not lone wild animals anymore; they’re our neighbors, zipping through alleys and crossing Route 9. People say they’ve been spotted in big cities like Los Angeles, Chicago, and New York. And now, they’re here in Newton.

I can’t stop thinking about them now. These urban coyotes are like wild ghosts, slipping through a world we built on top of theirs. They don’t fit here—or maybe we don’t fit in theirs—but they’re staying. They’re not really scared of us. And that’s what sticks with me. I’ve seen them twice, and I felt like the odd one out both times.

But what if I’m not alone next time? What if I’m walking my dog in the woods around here, like again Edmands Park trails or Bulluoghs Pond? People in Newton say coyotes aren’t rare anymore. They’re running through backyards in West Newton or hanging out near the Charles River. So, if you’re out with a pet—especially in the woods—here’s what I’ve learned:

First, keep your pet close. Dogs love sniffing everything, but I’d pull that leash tight if a coyote appeared. Coyotes love an easy target—small dogs or cats could be in trouble. Bigger dogs might be okay, but don’t risk it. Please stick to the paths, use a short leash, and don’t let them chase a squirrel into the bushes where a coyote might be hiding. I saw a video once where an expert said coyotes sometimes wait behind shrubs—bam, surprise attack!

Second, act big and loud. I’d raise my arms, yell, maybe toss a rock. Coyotes aren’t wolves—they’re usually more scared of us. Clap, stomp, and let them know you’re not worth messing with. Some Newton folks say banging a stick on a tree works too—anything to make them run off.

Third, don’t run away. It’s tempting, but running might make them chase you—especially with a dog. Back up slowly, keep facing them, and give them room to leave. They’re not mean; they’re just wild animals trying to eat and survive.

And if you’ve got trash or food, hide it. Coyotes love an easy bite, and Newton’s got plenty of tempting garbage cans. In the woods, don’t drop crumbs or leave picnic stuff out. If your pup’s tiny, keep an extra eye on them.

I’ve seen them twice now, and I’m starting to get it: in this mix of concrete and trees in Newton, it’s not just my story—it’s theirs too. I’ll be ready next time I’m out with my dog, whether it’s a late walk or a hike. Not scared, just careful. These urban coyotes? They’re not leaving, and neither am I.

I will write next time about our carpenter friends in the woods…!