Preview art copyright to:
***had to modify the pixels a little so it would show for the preview***

To understand this one you'll need a little back story.

When I was 14, I was a typical rebellious teenager. My mother and I were constatly arguing and during one particularly heated argument, my step-dad steped in and told me to leave. So I did.

At the time we were living in a house in Scottsdale, AZ and at the end of our street after you crossed the main street there was nothing but desert, and the McDowell Mountain foothills.

The aformentioned arguement took place approximatly 9 pm on a Monday night. As I said I left the house. I walked over toward the desert and was walking along the street where the desert met road and all of a sudden I heard some rustling in a bush that I had just passed, then I heard something like nails *click, click* land on the pavement. I turned around and there was a rather large coyote with a scruffier mane than most that I had seen. The moon reflected in his eyes and he hunched down met my eyes and started to growl. I nearly pissed my pants.
Then he started to take a step forward and started to sound more viscious. I started to take a step back, but at the last second reversed my step, took a large step toward him, threw up my arms, and loudly yelled, "GO AWAY!!"

His gaze at me dropped and the growling ceased. He shifted his weight a couple of times on his forelegs, looked to the side let out a low whine, and turned and ran back into the desert.

Two days later I was taking one of my regular day hikes in the foothills. I'd been out hiking for about an hour when I stopped and leaned on a rock to take a drink of water. Out of the corner of my eye to the left I saw movement. I turned and looked closer and there was that same coyote about 20-30 yards off to my left. Was this coyote following me?

Sure enough, over the span of 6 or 8 months I would see him everytime I went hiking or camping in the foothills. He gradually worked his way closer and closer to me over that time. It got to the point where her would walk circles around me withing 2-3 feet of me and would cautiously approch me and take Beef Jerky out of my hand if I offered it to him. When camping he started sleeping or resting just outside the campsite and gradually moved to where he was sleeping at the bottom of my bed roll.

Then one day, he did something he never did before. He actually walked me all the way to the street and sat at the edge where the desert met the street and watched me walk down the street toward home. I looked back at him once and waved good-bye, took a few more steps, looked back again and he was gone. I'm not sure what compelled me to go to the spot where he was sitting at that very moment, but I did. When I arrived at the spot where he was sitting there was absolutely not trace of him; not even foot prints on the ground. What was there was a polished green with red flecks stone(I still haven't had it identified).

After that I never saw him again...

While remembering this time in my life a couple of months ago I wrote this: