The Extraordinary Story of Wiley, the Atwater Village Coyote
Last July, through our Coyote-Smart California program, we became involved with residents of Atwater Village, a small, tightly packed historic Los Angeles neighborhood bordering the Los Angeles River.
Residents were concerned about a female coyote who had become unusually comfortable around people. She was frequently seen wandering the residential streets, approaching homes, and showing little inclination to avoid human activity.
She had been appearing in the neighborhood since at least January 2026 and had become such a familiar presence that residents had given her names. Some called her Eva. Others knew her as Glen. But the name that would eventually become associated with her extraordinary story was Wiley.
At the time, the prevailing assumption was that she had become accustomed to people because someone in the neighborhood was feeding her.
There were reports of suspected feeding, and residents had contacted Los Angeles Animal Services (LAAS) and the California Department of Fish and Wildlife (CDFW), expressing concern and asking for intervention.
According to residents, the agencies indicated there was insufficient evidence to pursue enforcement action.
Some residents were growing increasingly frustrated.
On June 19, one resident wrote to Los Angeles Animal Services:
“I have to insist that you take actual action against these coyotes in Atwater Village. I am not asking. I am telling you. If you continue this course of inaction someone is going to get seriously hurt.”
Four months later, that warning would take on a terrible significance.
October 16: A Child Is Bitten
On October 16, a 16-month-old boy was bitten by a coyote while playing with his mother in the backyard of their home on the 3300 block of Glenhurst Avenue.
The child was rushed to the hospital and treated for multiple bite wounds.
Wildlife authorities converged on the neighborhood in search of the offending animal.
According to accounts of the operation, wildlife officials located and shot a female coyote believed to be responsible. The animal was wounded but escaped.
Subsequently, authorities announced that the offending coyote had been euthanized. CDFW also reported that DNA evidence connected the animal to the biting incident.
The neighborhood was led to believe the danger had passed.
Many residents felt relief that it was over, but also frustration and anger. A child had been injured and an animal killed—a heartbreaking outcome to a situation authorities had been warned about for months.
October 29: Reports of an Injured Coyote
On October 29, Wildlife Emergency Services began receiving reports of an injured coyote roaming Atwater Village. The animal was unable to bear weight on her left front leg.
On November 1, I traveled to Atwater Village, hoping to locate the injured coyote, safely capture her, and transport her to a wildlife hospital for treatment.
What followed was an intensive investigation that drew me into the heart of Atwater Village, where modest bungalows and century-old homes line narrow, densely packed residential streets.
I walked the neighborhood, spoke with residents, reviewed photographs and videos, and began piecing together the injured animal’s movements.
Community participation was essential for us to determine where the coyote felt safest, where she spent time, and when and where we might have an opportunity to intercept her.
But this animal was elusive and remarkably mobile despite the injury that left her entire left front leg stiff and unusable.
As the days passed and I became more immersed in the neighborhood, more residents became involved. Their observations gave us insight not only into the injured animal’s movements but also into Wiley’s backstory.
Caught Between Two Worlds
Through new surveillance footage and firsthand accounts, I began to realize Wiley’s behavior was far more complex than we had initially understood. Up until then, it was assumed she was simply a food-conditioned coyote, unusually comfortable around people because someone was feeding her.
But residents were describing something quite different—an animal that appeared to actively seek social interaction, approaching strangers as though wanting to play, visiting homes, and attempting to engage with dogs.
One resident, who had observed Wiley almost daily for approximately ten months, provided a particularly revealing account:
“Working from home, I would see this coyote 3-4 times a day for 10 months and never have I seen aggressive behavior towards people or other animals. It has been quite the opposite, she has visited us at our window multiple times trying to play with my dog Alice who barks at her protectively. I’ve seen her also try to play with a big barking dog across the street from us. It seems that she thinks she’s part of the pack rather than a wild animal.
We’ve also encountered her on our walks almost daily. One time she surprised us coming around the corner and when my dog barked and lunged she jumped into the street startled. Almost as if she was surprised that she was getting barked at. Never did she bear her teeth or become aggressive towards my dog.
I’ve also witnessed her trotting down the street past people walking their dogs completely unbothered. When I encounter her without my dog she always responds to my hazing which is to clap loudly and walk towards her. She may hesitate at first but ultimately crosses the street.”
Other residents described similar interactions, and newly obtained videos offered compelling evidence of Wiley’s unusual behavior.
In one video, Wiley approaches a woman who is running. The woman screams, apparently believing she is being threatened. But when I examined Wiley’s movements and body language, I saw something quite different. Her behavior appeared more consistent with an attempt to engage in play.
Suddenly, many of the unusual reports I had been hearing began to make sense.
To clarify, a wild coyote that approaches people for food rewards is what we refer to as a human-conditioned coyote. Such conditioning can be reversed comparatively simply and easily through appropriate intervention, including eliminating food rewards and establishing clear boundaries.
But Wiley’s behavior appeared to go well beyond ordinary food conditioning.
In my professional assessment, her behavior was more consistent with an animal that had either been imprinted on humans or extensively socialized during a critical period of her development.
And there was another particularly unusual aspect.
She didn’t appear to be bonded to just one person or family.
She approached numerous people in different locations and circumstances, sometimes seemingly seeking food, other times apparently seeking social interaction.
That led me to consider an intriguing possibility.
Could Wiley have been raised among a group of people, perhaps in one of the encampments along the Los Angeles River?
This part of Wiley’s story is speculation, of course, but we can say with confidence that Wiley is not a typical wild coyote. Biologically, Wiley was a coyote, but behaviorally, she was not.
Caught between two worlds. Neither truly wild in her behavior nor domesticated, she appeared, in some respects, more like a free-roaming, poorly socialized dog.
And that did not make her safer—it made her less predictable than a typical wild coyote.
This is why a thorough investigation should have been conducted early on. An expert assessment of Wiley’s behavior might have led to her removal from the neighborhood and placement in an appropriate sanctuary months before a child was injured.
And it may not be too late.
Back From the Dead
As I continued tracking the injured coyote, something began troubling me. Here was an adult female coyote, suffering from what appeared to be a serious injury to her left front leg, appearing in precisely the same small neighborhood where Wiley had reportedly been shot just two weeks earlier.
Could this actually be Wiley?
Initially, I remained skeptical. After all, authorities had announced that the offending coyote was dead. They had reported DNA confirmation connecting the animal to the child.
But as I gathered additional accounts, photographs, videos, and details about the animal’s behavior, the possibility became increasingly difficult to dismiss.
Then came an especially important piece of information.
I learned that CDFW had reportedly never recovered Wiley’s body. Blood recovered during the search had reportedly been used for DNA analysis.
By November 7, the accumulated evidence had convinced me that the injured animal we were tracking was Wiley.
And I knew this discovery could set in motion a series of difficult and potentially controversial actions, including renewed efforts to locate and kill her. So, in my November 7 letter to the California Department of Fish and Wildlife, I asked for special consideration for this extraordinary animal.
I wrote, in part:
“I initially responded to reports of an injured animal, but as additional information emerged, I have become confident this is Wiley, the coyote reportedly shot following the October 16 incident involving a child on the 3300 block of Glenhurst Avenue.
I recognize the urgency of removing her from the neighborhood and would like to offer my assistance. I have become very familiar with her behavior and movement patterns.
However, I urge the Department to consider live capture, medical treatment, quarantine, and potential lifetime sanctuary placement rather than euthanasia. This is also what many in the neighborhood want to see happen.”
I further explained why I believed Wiley’s history was so unusual and offered to coordinate our knowledge, personnel, and equipment to facilitate her safe capture.
A Plea for Clemency
This is not simply a case of a wild coyote that bit a child. This is a coyote that was, for lack of a better word, corrupted by humans, long before the October 16 incident. And I believe that when our actions cause an animal to suffer, we have an obligation to make things right. Or at least try to.
We must consider Wiley’s extraordinary circumstances, which have now put her life on the line twice.
Authorities can choose to take her life and wash their hands of it, or give her the chance to live out her days in a safe, suitable environment—perhaps a sanctuary where she can safely interact with human caretakers.
The decision will speak volumes about who we are as a society.
Whatever the outcome, we want to see that Wiley’s story leads to meaningful changes in how Los Angeles responds to conflicts involving coyotes.
A Questionable Response and an Unquestionable Failure
Wiley’s story raises serious questions about how wildlife conflicts are managed in Los Angeles.
Los Angeles Animal Services: A Failure to Investigate
Residents repeatedly contacted Los Angeles Animal Services (LAAS) and the California Department of Fish and Wildlife (CDFW) months before the October incident, expressing concerns about an unusually comfortable coyote and suspected feeding.
Those reports warranted a thorough, professional investigation. As our volunteer team discovered in just a few days, Wiley was no ordinary food-conditioned coyote. Her extraordinary familiarity with humans strongly suggests her behavior had been profoundly shaped by human contact long before she arrived in Atwater Village in January.
A professional investigation could have uncovered this history and opened the door to meaningful intervention before a child was injured.
California Department of Fish and Wildlife: A Public Safety Failure
CDFW’s response following the October 16 incident raises an entirely separate concern.
Officials reportedly shot Wiley but never recovered her body. Nevertheless, the department announced that she had been euthanized.
The community was led to believe the danger had passed, when a wounded coyote involved in a serious biting incident was potentially still at large.
That’s not just misleading. That’s a serious public safety failure.
The residents of Atwater Village deserve answers.
Should’ve. Would’ve. Could’ve. Can.
Los Angeles can absolutely do better.
For years, I have advocated for a municipal coyote response program focused on early intervention, professional field assessments, and public education.
Central to this program would be a comprehensive reporting system that captures more than just sightings. Reports would be analyzed by qualified wildlife professionals who could identify concerning behavioral patterns, investigate in the field, and intervene before conflicts escalate.
To date, Los Angeles has not established a comprehensive coyote response program. If, after this incident, the city remains unwilling to act, I intend to explore establishing an independent program through WES.
We cannot change what happened.
But we can change what happens next.
Join the Effort
Wildlife Emergency Services welcomes individuals, organizations, wildlife professionals, and community partners interested in helping establish a more effective, science-based, humane approach to coyote conflict response in Los Angeles.
If you would like to support or collaborate on this initiative, please reach out.
Rebecca Dmytryk
CEO, Wildlife Emergency Services
Coyote-Smart California
818-222-2692
866-WILD-911
rebecca@wildlifeservices.org