Fave Columns

      On a late fall weekend, city police were forced to shoot a coyote that was threatening people on the riverbank near the University of Saskatchewan campus. It was too bad it had to happen, but the animal had become emboldened and it was a threat. He'd been there all summer, stalking people who were walking their dogs. 

      "Something is going on here," I thought back in June. On a bike ride, I caught a glimpse of the coyote myself, hiding in the bushes. Let me tell you, the security you take for granted as a city dweller disappears in an instant when you imagine an animal like that coming after you. It's the age-old conflict between nature and society. Incidents like these are a sad but inevitable part of urban life. I read the story like everyone else and forgot about it. 

      Then on Monday, the city editor of this fine newspaper received a phone call from a person who might have been as disturbed as that poor animal. I hope so, anyway, because if they were serious and believed what they were saying, then our city has a bigger problem than a random incident of wild animal encroachment. 

      The phone call was brief and to the point. 

      "They should leave the coyotes alone and shoot the immigrants instead," the woman said before hanging up. 

      There was a chill in the newsroom - fittingly, it was Halloween. Something is going on out there when people like the coyote lady are feeling confident enough to share their toxic thoughts. 

      Maybe it's the Trump Effect.

      Maybe these people would have remained hidden in the bushes if Trump hadn't offered them some twisted sense of empowerment to let their hate flag fly. 

      But someone is listening to them now. Someone understands them. They're free from their shackles of shame and fear. They've been emboldened, you might say. They've made conflict inevitable between their hateful nature and decent society. Immigrant or not, imagine someone like that coming after you. 

      Usually, the workday ends and you forget about the loonies. But it was Halloween and getting dark and that particular call continued to haunt me. 

      "Shoot the immigrants instead."

      Lady, do you know what you're saying?

      Did anyone in your family tree ever move from one country to another for a better life? Do you wear a poppy? Have you seen film from the day the Russians liberated Auschwitz? Is that the kind of world you want? 

      But enough of that. It was Halloween, and it was time to give out treats. The usual suspects arrived throughout the evening - the kids who looked like mine, growing up in a safe and secure city, old hands at the game of Halloween, feeling entitled to their treats. 

       Then, later than I would have expected, the bell rang, and I opened the door to two little girls and their older sister. 

        Minus the princess costumes, they looked exactly like the children you see in news footage from Syria. Maybe this was their first Halloween. What a strange thing it must have been to dress up on a cold night, stop by the houses of strangers and get candy.

      They were terribly cute even though their faces were thin and their eyes wary, like eyes that have seen things that can't be unremembered. I put two mini bags of chips into each of their small plastic jack-o-lanterns. We had plenty and the streets were growing quiet. 

      Like little birds, they turned and skittered back to their mom. Before I closed the door, I heard one of them excitedly say, "Two!" It was the sweetest thing I'd heard all day.

      And so to you, coyote lady, I have to ask: Which one of those kids would you shoot first?

November 4, 2016