Emily texted me: “sick coyote”. I hurried over. He was lying in the rain, barely moving, a young fellow, 9 months old. He didn’t notice me or any of the dog walkers nor their dogs. This would be the end of the road for him.
He had severe mange: the fur he retained was as dried out as his skin. He was emaciated: under 20 pounds. His tail looked like that of an opossum from the distance — compare this to the fluffy full tail of a healthy coyote. He had a number of deep, open wounds. I’m not sure if these came from scratching or wounds inflicted by dogs or even his own family. I’ve never seen family members attack a sick family member, rather, I’ve seen them allow the individual to remain — alone — in a protected area, and I’ve watched them visit on a regular basis, checking up on the individual.
I don’t know how long he had been there, but he obviously had gotten there on his own. It was a mulch pile which generates heat. Did he go there to warm himself up and possibly save himself, or did he know this was the end of the road, and opt for the most comfortable exit possible for himself? OR, since it was out in the open, might he have placed himself at the mercy of dogs and people who might have quickened the process?
I don’t know the answers, but while he was there, he must have realized at some point that this was the end. He was not aware of his surroundings, as attested to by his ignoring my close presence. I hurried away when he raised his head a couple of times — that’s when I took these first two photos. As he slowly put his head down, his head shivered because of the cold rain. It was a soft rain as I watched, but earlier it had come down hard. His head soon folded over onto his body with closed eyes. He twitched an ear occasionally, and then he started moving his limbs, as if running. I counted his breaths — once every 40 seconds.
During this entire time, I was in contact with two rehabbers. As I described the situation and coyote, we concluded this coyote was beyond help. Did we want to allow him a natural death out in the environment? We decided, because of the dogs, and because the coyote had already entered a delirium state — as indicated by his dream “running” behavior — that removal and euthenasia was the best choice. They aren’t allowed to euthanize in the field, so we asked if he could be sedated before being carried off, and we were told yes.
However, the crew came with no medications. But they were gentle, picked him up with a couple of towels over his body and that’s when I left. A rainbow came out, and then the drizzle continued. If he had not been picked up, I would have guarded him until he took his last breath, but that might have been several more hours.
Mange has been big in San Francisco for the last couple of years. We are told that rat poison is the cause: that ingestion of rat poison weakens immune systems and allows the mange to spread. Mange apparently is present in all canids, but is held in check by healthy immune systems. We are trying to get folks to stop the use of rodenticides in the city. Unfortunately, it’s institutions that continue to use the poison supplied to them by pest management firms. Although the sale of rodenticides has been banned in the city, these pest management firms use it profusely.
The law actually forbids rehabbers from helping mange infested coyotes. The law, created by CAFW, states that you cannot “feed” coyotes. Although there is an easy medication that can be administered in the field without interfering with a coyote — Bravecto — because of this law, rehabbers have to be careful, for their own existence, in administering this kind of medication. We have only one rehabber in California who is licenced to administer medication in the field. We are fortunate to have Good Samaritans — willing to take a chance — no different from our underground railroads or the resistance in helping families escape from the Nazis — to help out. I support these people. It’s the morally right thing to do. Unfortunately, the little fellow in this posting was not reached in time.
