Now, I've never been one to worry about the coyotes that apparently infest my southeast Denver neighborhood, perhaps because I've never actually seen one. We've had the odd fox or two in our backyard and, two months ago, a large deer who somehow got over the 6-foot fence and managed to chew off half of the shoots on our bushes before I slipped down to a gate and released him (on the advice of a police officer, by the way).

No, the only coyote I've seen in recent years was a particularly scraggly specimen haunting a fairway on the Kennedy golf course one morning as I sped by on my bike. But having someone in my neighborhood attacked by a pack of three coyotes does quickly concentrate the mind. Maybe they are getting out of hand.

Jacque Levitch was walking her Labrador when the coyotes swarmed in on them; she got scratched and bitten while defending her pet.

And the nasty culprits? Still at large.

Ironically, just last month a state Senate committee killed a bill by Sen. Joyce Foster, the Democrat who represents southeast Denver, that would have directed the Colorado Division of Wildlife "to give a higher priority in their administration of the state's predator-control laws to the protection of human safety from coyotes in wild land-urban interface areas."

"It was unanimous," Foster told me Tuesday. "Democrats and Republicans both disliked my bill." Skeptical testimony from the Division of Wildlife didn't help her cause. Nor did the unpleasant surprise that, in Foster's words, "the city of Denver kind of testified against it, too."

It's not that Denver disputes the widespread impression that urban coyotes are either more numerous or more aggressive these days, or both. Jill McGranahan of Denver Parks and Recreation explained that the animals seem to be less intimidated by humans than they used to be. They're very adaptable, she told me, and if people are feeding them and passively tolerating them, as she said they are, they will lose their fear.

You'd think that only a special breed of numbskull would leave food out for a feral creature with snapping jaws, but you'll find a few such folk in every community.

McGranahan said parks and rec is trying to reshape coyote behavior and encourages people to call (303) 455-0785 to report a sighting. One tactic her agency has adopted: "hazing" the creatures with whistles, air horns and other noise makers at Bible and Hutchinson parks. This morning, meanwhle, the agency is scheduled to present a new coyote management plan to a City Council committee.

Still, don't think the city is intent on driving coyotes away. "We're looking at a policy of co-existence," she warned, adding that this month's coyote attack on a human was the first recorded in Denver's history. Indeed, she argued, Denver residents are in greater danger of getting bitten by a domestic cat (54 cat bites in 2008 alone) than a rogue coyote.

Somehow I don't think that statistic is going to mollify critics.

"Coyotes and humans do need to co-exist," Foster said, "but if they're affecting my ability to feel safe, something more needs to be done than just education."

The Southmoor Park East Homeowners Association in southeast Denver is less diplomatic. In an e-mail Monday to members, the association announced it was "declaring war on the coyotes and the city of Denver has to decide which side of that war it wants to be on. From what we can tell, up to this point the city has been on the side of the coyotes. We recognize that coyotes cannot readily be exterminated but, as a result of the ill-advised tolerance policies of the city and, to a lesser degree, the Colorado Division of Wildlife, they have lost their fear of humans."

Lee Terry, president of the association, followed up Tuesday with an e-mail to the mayor's office revealing that a pack of 10 to 12 coyotes was spotted recently on Oneida Street, "frightening a young couple returning from a night out, who hid in their car until the huge pack had left."

With reports like that, it's little wonder some people have begun to raise the alarm. I certainly won't be taking late-night walks in my neighborhood any time soon.

Vincent Carroll is editor of the editorial pages.