Coyotes have practically become urban animals. I encountered one at dusk on Russian Hill last Christmas, loping towards me uphill on Mason Street. When it saw me it didn’t slow down, just veered gracefully around me and continued on its way. Foxes, too, live in the city, though they’re better at keeping out of sight, and the last time I saw one of those on Nob Hill was one night a decade ago — a silvery little thing with black muzzle and paws.
And, of course, there are raccoons. One night my husband felt something bump against his leg and looked down to see a mama racoon and her three kits file past. They barely even glanced at him. Do raccoons still count as wild animals? I’m not saying they’re pettable, but I have my doubts. They’re more like locals you know only to say hello.