Chicken Drama, But No Drumsticks!

This was an exciting day!  Many people keep chickens in their yards these days: chickens are allowed, but not roosters because they crow. But guess what — it is not just the roosters who crow! So crowing is what I heard, and so did this coyote as he passed through a neighborhood. The coyote approached the very well fenced-in yard — there was no chance of him getting in. However, the chickens saw the coyote through the wire fencing and began shreaking and flapping. One flew to the top of the fence where she strutted for a few minutes, and then she flew out of the protected yard into a tree in the overgrown yard next door. I thought: Oh, no!

The dog did his duty by barking at the intruder, but he was fenced in and that is all he could do, so he left. The coyote walked over to under the tree where the chicken had flown. And he waited. And he waited, hoping the chicken would descend to a more reachable level. The chicken crowed continually the entire time, but never budged from her high perch in the tree. And the coyote waited and waited. I wondered if the chicken would make it back. She did. She suddenly flapped her way back after about 35 minutes. As she did so, the coyote jerked to a standing position, but remained where he was, watching.

Maybe chickens are smarter than we think. My thought is that this chicken had flown out of the coop to distract the coyote from the other chickens. She stayed out there scolding that coyote. When she realized the coyote could not reach any of them — which the coyote would have done by then — she flew back to the safety of her yard. Eventually, the coyote walked off. He knew the chickens were not reachable in their yard. There was lots of drama, but no drumsticks this time!

Singing With Sirens

The sirens were loud and they were close by. One of the coyotes became frenzied and upset at the deafening intensity of the sound — he didn’t know which way to go and began running in various directions, as if he had become trapped, looking around for something to focus on and escape from but not finding it.  Finally both coyotes began yipping in response to the siren. Yipping with sirens is normal coyote behavior — the difference this time was that the siren had come so close. I’m wondering if this yipping and howling served to focus and calm the one who had become frantic?  This recording is of only two coyotes and a siren. The recording, unfortunately, picked up a lot of wind sound.

Triangulation, A Dive, And “Darn that Log!”

To note, especially, is the way the coyote cocks its entire head back and forth, triangulating, in order to precisely locate through sound where its prey is. The dive ends with a powerful “punch” delivered by the forepaws aimed right at the prey. Also note the coyote’s extreme patience and concentration. The video originally was about six minutes long. I’ve spliced out four minutes so that you won’t need a coyote’s patience to watch it!

Mom Rushes In, by Charles Wood

Monday my Los Angeles area coyotes were less congenial than on Sunday.  Mister showed up first and started barking.  Then Mom and Dad arrived.  I didn’t see any others.  Perhaps they acted differently for the three having time on their hands while waiting for the others

In the video, Mister first solicits play from Mom.  She refuses and Mister turns to Dad who also refuses.  Mister comes toward my dog Holtz and me.  Note that Holtz, sixty pounds, stood to my immediate left wearing his harness attached to a fully retracted and locked leash.  Mom joins Mister who steels himself with a stretch and a yawn and then comes closer while Mom and Dad watch from behind.

Holtz had been sitting quietly, paying more attention to his itches than to the coyotes.  A little late seeing that Mister was now close by, Holtz rises to bark.  Mister flinches.  On Holtz’s first bark, Mom set her left rear foot.  Mom might have ignored one bark.  To one bark, Mister might have replied with dirt scrapes and yips.  As it was, Holtz barked more.  Mom’s exaggerated run towards us was intended to give Holtz pause until she arrived in position.  Holtz’s excessive ruckus decided Mom’s course.

Mister’s course was decided after his parents refused him play.  Holtz didn’t notice.  Mister had reinforcements, yet Holtz’s position was superior to the three because Holtz had me.  Holtz didn’t notice.  Holtz was reactive.  In contrast, the coyotes were acting out a plan, a plan that allowed for the contingency of Mister needing help.  The coyotes wouldn’t have acted out a plan had I left when Mister began to bark or left when later they started to warn me with stares.  They see Holtz as a serial intruder into their home range and don’t want him around because they perceive Holtz as a potential competitor.  To a coyote, showing one’s self to a lingerer is supposed to be enough to cause an intruder to leave.  In fact, Holtz had wanted to leave well before Mister showed himself, having planted his feet and refusing to go with me towards the brush out of which Mister later emerged.

After Mom joins Mister her eyes follow Holtz.  Mister moves right, perhaps too soon.  Mom waits and continues to study before deciding to approach on our left.  She made an assessment and a decision based on how we were physically positioned towards her.  I didn’t notice what tipped her to our left.

Mister draws in behind Mom and they rush in.  Holtz barks and then whines in frustration at my restraining him.  Mom and Mister stop short and withdraw.  They meet up with Dad who comes to them from within the bushes.

Still King?

In the past, Dad has been the one to message Holtz and me in the way Mom and Mister did today.  I don’t know if Dad’s health doesn’t allow it or if the parents think it good experience for Mister.  If Dad is losing it, Mom is stepping in to fill his shoes.  It isn’t my experience of Dad that he hold back or prefer greetings, scratching and play to messaging Holtz and me.  My goal is to find him alone in order to better assess his temperament and health, to see if he still is the king I’ve known him to be.

Posting written by Charles Wood. Visit Charles Wood’s website for more coyote photos: Charles Wood. His work is copyrighted and may only be used with his explicit permission.

Low Key Rendezvous, by Charles Wood

Sunday I videoed my Los Angeles area coyotes as they met up for the evening.  In the video, Dad and Mom stand in the back while Tom wanders and Mister sits.  About a minute into the video Mister appears to ask Mom for a kiss.  I believe there was a fifth coyote hidden in the brush.  It may be the one that ran to catch up with the other four.

It was nice to see Dad and the others practically indifferent to Holtz and me.  Their stares were low key and they were relaxed enough to instead be attentive to each other.  Mister didn’t feel he had to prove something to everybody, even stopped staring.  Only Mom felt strongly enough about us to mark.  Their tails said to me they were ready to explode in joy except for the man and dog.  Sunday the five arrived at approximately the same time, greeted and then moved along to where they go most evenings.  They had a place to be off to and each knew it as they met.

Mom Sentry

At times one or two show up ahead of the others.  Mom did a few days ago while teenage boys were spray painting under the bridge.  She sat on higher ground and watched the boys while watching for her pack to gather.  When I arrived there I pointed her out to their amazement.  You just never know who is watching you tag.

Posting written by Charles Wood. Visit Charles Wood’s website for more coyote photos: Charles Wood. His work is copyrighted and may only be used with his explicit permission.

Three Coyotes, by Charles Wood

Saturday Dad and Mister were waiting in the rendezvous area and didn’t like it when Holtz and I showed up.  Soon Mom with her cauliflower left ear arrived.  Mom muted their exuberance in greeting her, showing even Dad her teeth.  Dad took a break to roll in sand.  They all went up the hill to wait.  Eventually Dad and Mister came down while Mom watched, prone on the hill with her head on her paws and a bored expression.  The last scene shows Mister intently staring while Dad messages and then walks off camera to scrape dirt as Mister takes a look around.  Eventually they all went to their nest area.

Dad’s stint in the sand was typical of how they, when engaged with me, will frequently get distracted.  They get distracted by their fleas, each other, by pack members possibly hiding from my view and by sounds from farther away, to name a few.  They don’t forget that I am there, yet intruder notwithstanding, Mister on  Saturday allowed himself a moment to read his father’s ‘tea leaves’, so to speak.  Likewise, Dad seemed ready to openly cavort though he couldn’t get Mom to forget just for a moment about Holtz and me.  Dad seemed disappointed with her rebuff, licking his lip and quivering his head from side to side in order to come to terms with what to him may have seemed as a pointless refusal by Mom to play.  For a second, Dad almost looked like he felt he did something wrong.  I’m tempted to give Dad a voice in the video at the point just after Mom shows her teeth:  “What!  Teeth?  Oh yes, the man, of course, and the dog, well, they are still there, I see that, yes, of course Mother, but, you know, they haven’t moved, never do really move you see:  they don’t, haven’t that is, the dog is sitting after all and not even looking exactly at us.  But I see what you are saying, of course, of course.  Well then…we’ll see, what to do about it and when; when is important, so let me… oh! I itch, first things first then.”

I did notice in a photograph I took that Dad’s four lower right premolars are worn to nubs.  I’m beginning to accept that he is a beat up old coyote.  Would that Mom would cut him some slack.

Posting written by Charles Wood. Visit Charles Wood’s website for more coyote photos: Charles Wood. His work is copyrighted and may only be used with his explicit permission.

Dad Ten Days Later, by Charles Wood

It is hard to believe I haven’t seen Dad for ten days.  Wednesday I went into my Los Angeles area coyotes’ field hoping to come across one.  Dad was in the rendezvous area, apparently alone. He saw my dog Holtz and me before I saw him.  Dad approached us and I pulled Holtz closer with his leash and made him sit.  I stepped towards Dad and he backed off.  I then began to video.

The video shows a fairly low key Dad.  Near the end of the video he scrapes with his head pointed toward me.  Usually that’s when he starts to approach.  I didn’t want him to come closer so I put my hand into my pocket for a clicker.  He ran off as I fiddled with my pocket, not waiting for the clicker.  I’ve never used a clicker before.  A few times in the past I’ve reached into a pocket for a golf ball to lob at him.  I’m pretty sure he suspected that I was going for a golf ball.  I took my eyes off him to reach into my pocket.  When I looked up a moment later he was gone and I had to play the video to see how and where.  He watched Holtz and me as we left.

The previous day as I sat under the bridge I heard Dad’s pack howling.  They were in the nature preserve hidden in the distant trees.  Their calls echoed faintly under the bridge and were muffled in part by the sound of traffic passing on the street above me.  The howling stopped and I didn’t see any coyotes.  Several minutes later several teenage boys on bicycles rode towards me out of the nature preserve.  I asked them if they had heard the coyotes.  They said yes and that although they hear them frequently, they have never seen them.

Posting written by Charles Wood. Visit Charles Wood’s website for more coyote photos: Charles Wood. His work is copyrighted and may only be used with his explicit permission.

Ferdinand the Coyote, by Charlotte Hildebrand

It’s hard not to hear the goings on next door, especially given that my kitchen window looks out on my neighbor’s yard. At night I can hear swishing in the bushes as the night creatures make their way to Thea’s bowls. In the morning I hear more swishing and tap tap tapping and see the skunks and cats and crows and coyote that come to eat breakfast and dinner.

To be fair, the coyote hasn’t been around much this summer… until last weekend. This comes as a relief but not a surprise. It was explained to me how he would eventually wean himself of human interaction (I’m assuming coyote is a he but he could be a she): “Given time, this matter will resolve on its own, the coyote will decide [when].”

When coyote does come around, it’s like a homecoming. Thea comes right into the lower yard where coyote’s lying in the grass not more than five feet away. She talks to him and coyote listens, waiting for her to put food into the bowl. Then she gives him her blessing and climbs back up the steps to go inside. Thea is unafraid because the coyote is her friend. He likes skunks. He likes to smell the breezes. He likes the tall grasses in Thea’s backyard. He must get sick of coyote life—enough of the urine smells and hard rocks for beds and howling at night.

Coyote is Ferdinand the bull: “He liked to sit just quietly and smell the flowers. He had a favorite spot out in the pasture under a cork tree. It was his favorite tree and he would sit in its shade all day and smell the flowers.”—Munro Leaf, illustrated by Robert Lawson

Seeing is believing. Here is Coyote as Ferdinand:

Reprinted from Charlotte Hidebrand’s blog, The Rat’s Nest. For more of Charlotte’s writing, please visit her website: http://charlottehildebrand.blogspot.com/

Asking For Help And Receiving Some

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 Slide show has 21 slides.

I was able to get these shots between wafts of fog that kept blowing in and leaving. What is going on here is that one coyote is bothered by something on her tail area. Whatever it was, she wanted it off — possibly it was causing discomfort — maybe it was a burr or something like that which was pinching or had become embedded in her skin.

What is of interest is that this coyote was able to communicate her need to the other, and the other tried his best to help. However, the problem was not solved by his attempts to help, as can be seen by the coyote with the problem trying again to remove the source of discomfort on her own in slide #9. It appears that she was unable to do this.

Slide #10 shows that she then continued soliciting his help: walking or rolling in front of him and thrusting that sore spot in front of him.  Maybe he knew his help would be futile, or maybe he got tired of helping, or maybe the message was not so clear this time, but his interest shifted to leading them both into the woods and out of my view. I’m hoping that maybe he helped her some more once they were under cover.

Rendezvous, by Charles Wood

Saturday at dusk Mom sat watching me when Mister, her yearling son, came towards her down their hill.  His dad approached Mom, coming from the east.  Mister burst towards them and the three had a rendezvous.  Near the end of the video, Dad works to settle Mister down.  A little after that Mom shows Mister some teeth and he drops onto his side:  almost as if Mom shot him dead!

These three, after the rendezvous, tried to cross under the bridge into the nature preserve.  However they wouldn’t go under the bridge with me standing there.  While waiting to pass, they began to yip, the upset kind.  I left so they could continue on their way.

Significantly, Mom and Dad were together without their new puppies.  Are there new puppies this year?  If so, were they at dusk Saturday unattended or being cared for by one or both of the other yearlings, Bold and Shy?  If either alone or being cared for, where?

I don’t know.  Last year Mom and Dad raised their puppies without help.  Last year when I saw puppies, Dad was with them.  At times I saw Dad alone without either Mom or puppies.  Seeing solitary Dad meant to me that Mom must have been with the puppies.  This year there are too many full grown coyotes around to allow such guesswork.  Yearlings may make life easier for Mom and Dad, but they make my life, though richer with coyotes, harder.

Posting written by Charles Wood. Visit Charles Wood’s website for more coyote photos: Charles Wood. His work is copyrighted and may only be used with his explicit permission.

Warning Bark at a Den Site

We noticed a lone coyote hurrying away, way down the path ahead of  us. There were just a few of us on the path, but there was also a dog. The coyote obviously saw us as threats so it hurried up to a lookout, where, half-hidden, it proceeded to warn us off with its bark for about 20 minutes. A couple of people hung around to watch, as did their dog: they had never heard a coyote barking and were very excited and exhilarated by the experience.

I always suggest to people that  it’s best to move on if you have a dog: this is the reason the coyote was barking. Having said that, I’ve noticed that coyotes will continue barking for a considerable time, whether the threat has departed or not! I took this video at the site of on den way back in April. Other people saw the pups, but I did not. On the video, you’ll hear lots of birds, a human voice and a San Franciscan fog horn in addition to the coyote’s barking!

Easing Up A Little After Intense Barking

This is a continuation of the previous posting on “Distressed Barking”. It is part of that same 20 minute barking session. The barking became less “distressed” and less “insistent” as time wore on, probably because there was no “threat” anywhere in sight. Here there are more pauses, and more half-hearted huffs, puffs and grunts, although the coyote still throws its head up and far back for the high-pitched barking. The coyote is also sitting, which furthermore relaxes the impact of any warning message that the coyote might have wanted to impart.

At one point, the coyote takes a break — a totally unthreatened stance — to scratch itself. Hmmmm. But it got up to bark some more, more half-heartedly, before finally walking away to find a spot to lie down. A few more barks were in order, and then rest. I was going to add the last sequel: the coyote finally lying down — but I feel that would be overkill — or rather, overbark!!

Distressed Barking After Interference From A Dog

He could have been belting out the Star Spangled Banner, holding the notes perfectly — after all, it happened to be the fourth of July!

I started taking the video as an Irish Setter spotted a coyote trotting down a hill. It was a chance encounter — a mere momentary brush-by — but a surprise for both. The dog turned to go after the coyote, but stopped in an instant response to his owner’s “no”. Nonetheless, adrenalin was already flowing, and the “I’ll get you” look had already been exchanged between the canines, so the coyote ran to an out-of-reach spot and began its distressed and upset barking. The owner and dog left immediately, which made no impact on the coyote who kept barking away for about 20 minutes to an audience of no one. However, as the minutes ticked away, the intensity of the initial barking subsided — I’ve posted a second video of the next part of this same barking session — to be continued on the next posting.

Rendezvous, Almost – by Charles Wood

Friday I saw four of my Los Angeles area coyotes, all more or less together.  Before twilight, Mom and Bold headed north from the nesting grounds to the rendezvous area.  Then Mister showed up to bark as I followed them.  I hadn’t seen Mom since June 13 and at that time she appeared to be traveling alone, as did Bold on June 30.  I often see my coyotes either singly or paired.

Although two coyotes together aren’t unusual, three suggests my pack may be gathering for a rendezvous.  At dusk a fourth coyote showed up, Shy.  Eventually the three yearlings moved out of sight, like Mom who hadn’t showed herself since before twilight.  The only adult I didn’t see was Dad.  I reasoned he must have been with the new puppies and hoped they would head towards us.  They didn’t.  Perhaps Mom went to join Dad and the rendezvous was rescheduled.  Or perhaps there is another rendezvous area and I delayed them moving there to join Dad and the puppies.  In any case, I didn’t see Dad and the puppies.

My presence is definitely seen by my coyotes as involved and the behaviors I see are mostly of their interactions with an involved human who brings his dog.  It was my dog who introduced us, and my interest in coyotes sprang from my interest in their field as a playground for my dog:  not a good start, a start that won’t be overcome.

Once I attempted to break Dad’s misimpression by playing tag with my dog while Dad watched.  I was thinking he would possibly be persuaded that we were cool.  There was no sign of reappraisal, his unamused glare embarrassed me.  Mom expresses Dad’s view, as do Mister, Shy and Bold.  If they have a theory of my mind, it wrongly informs them that I share my dog’s desire for their food.  Yet admittedly, given certain hypotheticals, I would eat their food though they could hardly know I wouldn’t relish it.  Then again, with a flame, ketchup, mustard, vinegar and a dill pickle I can conceive of their food as enjoyable.  I concede they know me in my essentials as well as they need to.

Mister

From time to time I’ve seen coyote life seemly unaffected by my presence.  For example, some crows once buzzed Mom.  She moved her gaze off me and onto the crows, sauntered from the road into wild mustard and returned to gazing at me as the crows moved on.  I had expected a more energetic defense by Mom.  Later I realized that crows can’t fly through wild mustard and that her defense was elegantly parsimonious.  My imaginary defense against buzzing crows, flailing wildly as I thought she should have done, would have been untutored.  It didn’t occur to me that Mom knows crows better than I do.

Posting written by Charles Wood. Visit Charles Wood’s website for these and more coyote photos: Charles Wood. His work is copyrighted and may only be used with his explicit permission.

Dad’s Son, by Charles Wood

Saturday as I arrived at the bridge I saw that I had already been spotted by one of my Los Angeles area coyotes.  It wasn’t glad to see me, sat and stared up.  It stood and began to urinate like a male.  Yet it wasn’t Dad.  It was a yearling male coyote!  I’ve named him Mister.

I had thought there were four coyotes in my field:  Mom, Dad and two female yearling coyotes, Bold and Shy.  I was wrong.  I didn’t realize that one of the survivors from last year’s litter was a male.  My previously posted video (http://coyoteyipps.com/2011/04/21/dad-and-his-daughter-bold-by-charles-wood/) was also of the male coyote I saw Saturday, though I thought then that I was observing Bold.  I wasn’t.  It was Mister.

After first recognizing a male youngster, Mister, I wondered if he and Bold were the same coyote, wondered if I had Bold’s gender wrong.  On study, Mister has, like Dad, a lower lip with a black tip and Bold lacks that marking.  Shy has unique markings under her left eye and walks around with her mouth open.  Bold may also be a male, but “she” is not Mister and neither Bold nor Mister are Shy.

Mister

One reason in favor of my accepting three survivors from last year is that in August 2010 I took a photograph that appeared to have one too many youngsters in it, a youngster standing off at the side partly hidden by a bush while two other youngsters greeted Dad.  That mystery coyote didn’t participate in the greeting and vanished quickly.  Photographs are difficult to interpret and I felt there wasn’t enough evidence to allow myself a third survivor.  Unfortunately for me, I usually see one or two coyotes, three infrequently, four very rare.  I’m now willing to accept that the August 2010 photograph indeed shows a third surviving youngster from 2010’s litter of seven.

Mister

Mister was the only coyote I saw Saturday.  Evidently none of the others thought he needed any help, though some or all of them may have been there concealed.  One of Mister’s roles in child care is to keep me away, as they all do.  I had read that young males are driven off by their parents before the next litter is born:  not absolutely true.

Last year I didn’t see any undispersed youngsters around when the puppies emerged.  Nor did I see Mom and Dad together with the puppies, just saw Dad caring for them, from June to the end of August when I did see Mom again.  By the end of August I would see two youngsters and missed that there was a third.  Still, four of the puppies had apparently not survived through August.  I suspect that life is easier for Mom and Dad with some of last year’s puppies around to help with newborns and to defend their territory.

Posting written by Charles Wood. Visit Charles Wood’s website for these and more coyote photos: Charles Wood. His work is copyrighted and may only be used with his explicit permission.

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