Advantages of MS #832: Coyote Safety
As my wife and I were about to start a fall hike
in the Rio Grande bosque, a beautiful forested ribbon of gold every October, we
took pause at a posted sign at the trailhead. The warning was ominous. “Coyotes
live here!” The exclamation points were numerous. “Be aware!” And the advice
was a complete and total no-brainer for someone with walking issues due to
multiple sclerosis. “Do not run from a coyote. Back away slowly.”
Because of my disease and my ability to run as fast as Usain Bolt can crawl with a bum knee, I have the unique opportunity to follow coyote safety guidelines others might ignore. Be a roadrunner and skedaddle at the site of Wile E.? Not me. I would back away slowly (emphasis on slowly), taking full advantage of underwear that absorbs moisture. And since I use forearm crutches, I have a built-in defense system. If a curious coyote dared to approach, I’d beat ‘em back. I’d protect all in my party. I’d be the hero.
“After that first panicked swing, you’d lose your balance, teeter over, and hurt yourself.” Laura had a good point. I had a much better chance of being an afternoon snack—albeit a disease-riddled snack—than being a savior. Admittedly I would have to rely on her to use one of my forearm crutches as a club to fend off that pack of ravenous, mangy coyotes. But it would be my crutch, because of my MS, that ultimately would save the day.
So see, once again MS comes to the rescue. It’s easy to forget all of the good things that can come with having this disease. (Literally, because of cognitive issues, many of us tend to forget things, but let’s not go there right now.) So get out and hike. And protect the normals from coyotes. Beep! Beep!
Because of my disease and my ability to run as fast as Usain Bolt can crawl with a bum knee, I have the unique opportunity to follow coyote safety guidelines others might ignore. Be a roadrunner and skedaddle at the site of Wile E.? Not me. I would back away slowly (emphasis on slowly), taking full advantage of underwear that absorbs moisture. And since I use forearm crutches, I have a built-in defense system. If a curious coyote dared to approach, I’d beat ‘em back. I’d protect all in my party. I’d be the hero.
“After that first panicked swing, you’d lose your balance, teeter over, and hurt yourself.” Laura had a good point. I had a much better chance of being an afternoon snack—albeit a disease-riddled snack—than being a savior. Admittedly I would have to rely on her to use one of my forearm crutches as a club to fend off that pack of ravenous, mangy coyotes. But it would be my crutch, because of my MS, that ultimately would save the day.
So see, once again MS comes to the rescue. It’s easy to forget all of the good things that can come with having this disease. (Literally, because of cognitive issues, many of us tend to forget things, but let’s not go there right now.) So get out and hike. And protect the normals from coyotes. Beep! Beep!
Comments
"Its always the white people who fall down when they're being chased by zombies. If you're being chased by zombies don't expect me to stop and help you up...except you Aunt B, I'd help you because of the MS."
See, there are always advantages to having the MS! Some folks can ward off coyotes and people might stop to help you during the zombie apocalypse! Ha!
(the above might have been paraphrased, I can't remember exactly what he said word for word)
http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=coyotes-suburban-attacks