|Blogs > Zaphed905 > The Woodshed|
Dang. I love this wireless stuff. I’m sitting out on the deck with the laptop, watching the sun go down across the valley as the moon comes up. And I’m still on-line.
The baby red-tail hawk is still sitting over in his nest, crying his head off right now. Seems to be a slow learner this year. I don’t think he’s hunting well yet. This morning, the baby red-tail from the nest over on the other side of the orchard was over here chasing him. They were both sounding off like crazy. For a minute, I thought somebody was being ! Trying to make friends? Trying to steal food from each other? I dunno.
I haven’t seen much of the coyotes this summer. For the last three years, there has been a pair that pass through my yard several times a day. In the winter, it’s more of a pack. They spent a lot of time trying to make “friends” with my dogs. For a long time, I couldn’t figure out how my dogs always had so many deer antlers and bones to gnaw on. They don’t generally go out side of the perimeter that I trained them to, and there aren’t that many deer dropping dead inside the perimeter!
I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it happen several times. The coyotes bring them presents! Sometimes it’s antlers and bones. Sometimes it’s a fallen tree branch. Sometimes it’s just human trash that the coyotes found somewhere ‒ a 2-liter soda bottle, a bag of McStyro wrappers, a piece of two by four. They drop the present at the perimeter and sit back on their haunches.
(Oddly enough, the coyotes know exactly where the dog’s perimeter is ‒ it’s one of those training wires that I used.)
My dogs won’t have any of it. They’re not that kind of girls! They pick the nearest high ground on their side of the wire and bark like crazy at the intruders. If the coyotes advance, my dogs back away. And vice verse, if there’s only one coyote. They make friends easily with other dogs, but not with the wild bunch. After the coyotes give up and leave, the dogs dart out and retrieve the present.
It’s probably a good thing that the dogs are picky. The coyotes are a pretty nasty, rough looking bunch of critters. Last winter, when we finally had a real old-fashioned snow for a week or so, they ATE one of the pack. I don’t know if one of them just froze to death or if they drew straws. (O.K., Jake, it’s you. You get a five second start…) There were coyote parts all over the place. Easy to see on the white snow. Somebody left the spine on the big boulder right in front of my house.
(Damn! The mosquitoes are really doing a number on me, but I’m going to finish this post from the DECK dammit. I’m hoping that the bats will come out pretty soon and clear up some of this bug traffic. Gotta type faster.)
Anyway, this one coyote seemed incredibly earnest about wanting a relationship with my doggy girls for a long time. They just wouldn’t go for it. Finally he had enough, one morning when I happened to be looking out the window. The doggirls were rejecting an offering of an antler for the umpteenth time. He made a big show of pissing on the dirt, then turned around and used his back feet to fling the piss-mud in the general direction of my dogs. Then he stalked away.
I gotta say one thing for the varmint.
He had style.