Every Sunday morning, I go for a walk with my BFF Kate, who lives in Fall River. (I always go to her – it started when I was editor of The Herald News, and I wanted to walk around Fall River to “see” if there was anything new we should report on.)
I don’t know if I’ve admitted this here yet, but I am not an animal person. We never had pets growing up, so animals have never been something I’m comfortable with. At best, I tolerate them; at worst, I’m outright scared of them.
Over the years, on our walks, Kate and I have come across all sorts of wildlife. A tortoise casually walked across a street down by Battleship Cove. Turkeys have no fear. Snakes don’t care if I scream, apparently. Deer are rather beautiful to see. One time we watched a squirrel get electrocuted (or so we thought) and fall from a power line, only to see him “come to” and scurry away when we passed back by that spot 20 minutes later. (I did not handle that calmly, as you can imagine.)
A few months ago, we spotted a coyote in the front yard of one of the mansions on Highland Avenue. He was just lying there, eyeing us, acting as if he owned the place.