A few weeks ago, my cousin Wendy texted to say something had gotten into her chickens.

If I had to guess, I’d put money on coyotes.

Feels strange to write that sentence.

Not all that long ago, coyotes were unheard of in North Carolina. I remember when the idea of one turning up in a neighborhood would’ve sounded like a bad joke. If someone told me they’d seen a coyote trotting down a suburban street, I’d’ve laughed and said they were seeing things.

But times have changed.

Belle and I spotted the one above last summer while driving through the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. There it was, plain as day, slipping through the trees like it owned the place.

I’ll never forget the first time I ever heard one. It was a high, eerie yip—somewhere between a bark and a scream—cutting through the trees just before sunset. I’d never heard anything like it.

“Coyotes,” Daddy said like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

And now? It is.

Coyotes are all over the place in North Carolina these days. They began creeping into the Southeast around the mid-20th century after wolves were wiped out and the ecosystem shifted. No natural predators, plenty of food, and lots of open space? That’s prime real estate for a coyote.

Now, they’re just as likely to show up on the ridges around Asheville as they are on a beach in the Outer Banks or a Fayetteville sidewalk.

They’re smart. They’re adaptable. And they’re not picky.

Despite the fear-mongering you sometimes see on social media, coyotes aren’t hunting people. They’re opportunists. They go for what’s easy: rabbits, rats, berries, garbage, pet food, compost piles, and yes—an occasional chicken that wandered too far from the coop.

Most of the time, they want nothing to do with us. But when we make food easy to get, or let our pets wander unsupervised at dawn or dusk, we’re rolling out the red carpet.

And if you think they only show up in rural places, think again.

Coyotes are now an everyday part of life in North Carolina, and that means we have to learn how to live alongside them, which means trading in the panic for a little preparedness. And being prepared is a whole lot easier than you might think it is. Don’t leave food outside. Secure your trash. Keep the cats inside. Walk your dogs on a leash. And haze a coyote if you see it – make noise, clap your hands, and make them uncomfortable.

That last part matters. Coyotes are naturally shy, but if they stop seeing people as a threat, they can get bold. We’ve got to remind them—firmly and safely—that we’re not to be approached.

If you’ve got chickens, goats, or other small livestock, you’re probably already on coyote watch. Secure fencing, motion-activated lights, and even livestock guardian dogs can make a world of difference. Great Pyrenees are especially popular in Western North Carolina.

The goal isn’t to get rid of coyotes—you couldn’t if you tried. The goal is to make your place less appealing to them.

I know that’s not what anyone wants to hear when it comes to an invasive species, but we might as well make our peace with it: coyotes are here to stay. Sure, their presence can be unsettling—especially if you’ve got pets or livestock—but it’s not the end of the world. With a little common sense, a good porch light, and some neighborly know-how, we can live alongside them just fine.

Because the truth is, as towns grow and cities sprawl, the wild isn’t always “out there” anymore. More and more, it’s showing up in our own backyards.

And we might as well make our peace with that, too.