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Fergus the golden retriever and I went for a walk in the back 40 on a sunny autumn day. Halfway through the second field, I realized Iâ€™d chosen the best possible conditions for the dog to get as muddy as possible. The pasture, which appeared to be lush and green, was deceptively wet.
Fergus was in his glory. I looked down and realized my legs were splattered with mud. There was no use turning back.
More than once Iâ€™ve realized Iâ€™m very lucky that Fergus doesnâ€™t have the urge to roll in foul-smelling things he finds on the ground. The carcasses of roadkill and the droppings of other beasts are irresistible to some dogs. They drop and wriggle happily in the stink like a pig in mud. The smellier the better.
But Fergus isnâ€™t tempted. He stops and sniffs and sometimes marks the spot as his own by peeing on it. But thatâ€™s the extent of his interaction with the offensive things. For this, Iâ€™m truly grateful.
On this particular walk, Fergus found something really strange. He was quite captivated by it, so I came closer to have a look. It looked like a pile of dog droppings but it was covered in white fur. There were half a dozen similar art installations in a semi-circle at the corner of our field. This corner is slightly raised in elevation, which made it a favourite spot in the past for our cattle â€“ and coyotes. Clearly this pack had found a meal of wild rabbit.
In earlier years when we had sheep, the coyotes used to perch on the velvety moss-covered rails of the cedar fence and watch â€˜sheep TV.â€™ From that elevated spot, they could see all the way up the field into the barnyard, where the fat fluffies were snacking on hay, oblivious. From that vantage point, the wild dogs could plan their next move.
I only witnessed one attack, from two fields away, for about 30 seconds. I saw the coyote pouncing toward the grazing flock like a pup that wanted to play. When he made his selection and moved in for the kill, I ran looking for the Farmer.
â€œCoyoteâ€™s got a sheep!â€ I screamed. I couldnâ€™t shoot a gun, so I just ran out of the house in my sock feet, flailing my arms and hollering. The coyote didnâ€™t even look at me. He dragged the sheep to the edge of the field, where he left her. He and his pack would be back later for their feast.
Usually coyotes are much more discreet about their dining habits. They take the smaller or weaker animals that stray from the group. They invite their friends to share the meal. They leave very little behind.
After that bold daylight coyote attack, we got Donkey. And that was the end of the coyote kills, to our knowledge. The Farmer and his hunting buddies left the coyotes alone because they were staying in their own territory. They ate rodents, rabbits and groundhogs and left our sheep alone. They werenâ€™t our favourite animals but they were allowed to stay.
When we replaced our sheep with cattle, the coyotes appeared to leave. But now that the cattle are gone, we see more deer and the coyotes have returned.
They can stay, as long as they leave my dog alone. Fergus is on a wireless fencing system and we donâ€™t leave him outside when we arenâ€™t home so he should be okay. The deer are on their own. Hopefully the coyotes will be satisfied with smaller animals for food.
A friend told me the local wildlife sanctuary is building a special kennel for coyote rehabilitation, to help build up their numbers. I was a bit flabbergasted. I know coyotes must have a purpose in the larger ecosystem and I suppose they occasionally need to be rehabilitated when injured. It just never occurred to me. But I guess if you can treat a deer thatâ€™s hurt you can do the same for its arch nemesis.
In the spring, weâ€™ll have turkeys and chickens, and a few steers to raise for our own beef. Fergus should be big enough by then to pose a threat to any hungry coyotes.
But then the coyotes might be the least of our worries. On her way to Sunday dinner the other night, one of our guests reported seeing a â€œbig cat.â€ Weâ€™ve confirmed cougar paw prints in the last few years and weâ€™ve seen a catlike creature at the back of our property.
Iâ€™m hoping the big cat has no interest in golden retrievers.
Troy Media columnist Diana Fisher is a freelance writer living on a 200-acre farm along the Kemptville Creek in Oxford Mills, Ont.
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