

I first spotted him in the distance as a silhouette against the sky. As I got closer I saw who it was.
It’s always a joy to catch a glimpse of this pair and catch up on how they are. I don’t see them nearly as often as I used to, which over the years has been pretty much every single day. With more ailments, aches and pains as they age, I’m sure they feel more vulnerable and less inclined to risk encounters with dogs. This morning I was overjoyed to see one of them at dawn. I could only see a dark silhouette on the horizon against the lighter sky. I hurried over to be able to identify who it was: it was Dad! He was sitting on a path as the daylight slowly creeped over the horizon. When the first leashed dog walked by in the distance, he got up and sauntered away and over to a grassy knoll, where he again lay down and kept his gaze in one specific direction.



Suddenly his intense gaze softened and he got up slowly as though he were finally ready to leave. And it’s then that I noticed his mate had suddenly appeared next to him. Now his focused gazing into the distance made sense: he had been waiting for her, keeping an eye in the direction she had gone and from which she would be coming. And SHE knew he would be there waiting for her. They are a pair closely in tandem.


They greeted each other gently, warmly, knowingly — I sensed the deep intuition they had for each other — and then they began walking off together, but not before she, the female, acknowledged me from the distance with a knowing glance. I’ve known her for her whole life since she was born, but I’ve known — or I should say *observed* — him only as long as she has, as long as they have been mates over the last two years.



They loitered together for just about a minute, poking into the ground and circling each other. I think he wanted to walk on immediately, but he waited for her, while she seemed to be stalling before *heading-in* for the day together. I had the sense that her stalling was actually testing me — coyotes constantly test — watching for my minutest reactions and reading every flinch I made. I guess I passed, as I always seem to have, because she slowly turned to take the high road where she knew I could observe her (and have many times) even though dogs and people might be on this path — she may even have known that I would be asking folks to leash, as I often have — I absolutely believe she knows when this goes on — whereas he, the male, felt more comfortable taking the lower path where there was plenty of foliage to duck into if a chance encounter were to occur with a dog. So they took separate but parallel paths, based on their individual comfort levels, but still in tandem and within view of each other.


She kept looking in his direction, making sure they were keeping apace of each other.
I soon lost sight of him below the crest of the hill, but I knew he was there because she kept looking back in his direction. She followed a narrow path around the hill, then crossed over the lower path and descended into the thicket. And then, within 2 minutes, he appeared at that same spot, and he also disappeared.


First she descended and disappeared into the nearby woods (left), and he soon followed (right).
It was a real pleasure to see the harmony between these two. They communicate intuitively — and by that I mean in ways we may not be able to decipher: As I watched, I could feel that deep understanding between them. Lately, when I see them, I almost always see them together, just the two of them, without any of their offspring, though the family does come together every evening. These parents have been together for two litters now, and I’m expecting there will be another litter coming up next year.
I probably won’t see them again for a while — that’s the latest pattern — but I felt caught up!