We live with coyotes. They are our neighbors. On many nights throughout the year, we hear them as they walk the trails near our house. They often move in groups and we hear their “yips”. In a 1992 Robert Redford movie called “Sneakers”, an important clue to discovering the whereabouts of a particular location central to the plot, was when a blind person described the yips as sounding like a cocktail party. This description sometimes pops up in my mind when I hear them conversing. The coyotes we see are called Eastern coyotes. They are medium-sized weighing between 35-45 pounds, (males are usually larger) They have a very thick coat. Some people confuse them with German Shepherds but they are much smaller. Although we mainly hear them at night, we have also seen them in the daytime. Sometimes, if they cross our property, our dogs let them know that they are not welcome. A few stories every year make the news that coyotes eat small dogs and cats. This is not their basic diet. They are omnivores and eat rabbits, small mammals, such as mice and vols, raccoons, groundhogs, birds, insects, plants and whatever else appears in their path. They are an important part of the eco-system in which they live. After hearing the howling of a family group of coyotes, it is easy to get the impression that the woods must be overflowing with coyotes. In a pack, there are probably only five or six animals present including two adults and the young of the year. A few coyotes can make a tremendous amount of noise when they want to. A family unit will generally defend a territory of 2 – 15 miles against other coyotes. It is this territorial behavior of coyotes that limits their numbers in any one area. Appleton Farms In my neighborhood, just a 10-minute walk from my house, is a 1,000-acre property called “Appleton Farms.” The Appletons were early settlers in Massachusetts in the 1600s.They were already a prominent family in England and were granted 600 acres in Ipswich 1638 to get started in “taming” this “New” England. This land, and the extra land added to it over the years, was kept in their family and passed down through the generations until 1998. We had met the last Mrs. Appleton when she was in her 90s. At her death, she bequeathed entire property to the Trustees of The Reservation, a local conservation group. Her wishes were that it would remain an active dairy farm. Some of the activities that have occurred in Appleton Farms include: farming, 4H club for children, horseback riding, carriage racing (some of the trails are very wide just for this purpose), dogs off-leash area (over 100 acres), dog-sled races, walking, running, bicycling, CSA (community supported agriculture), a small farm store, haying, food classes, cross country skiing and festival days, just to name the ones that easily come to mind. Catherine and I have participated in most of these opportunities over the years. For more than 10 years, Catherine was on the Board of Directors representing the Ipswich Conservation Commission. My “close encounter” Fifteen years ago, I was walking our two healthy, active dogs, Griffin and Max, in Appleton Farms. We had gone there many times so we all knew the routine. At a certain point in the woods, I would let them off-leash and off they would go. I never really knew precisely where they went. They would either eventually find me as I continued walking or we would meet at the entrance. Although this was not a particularly controlled approach, most times, we would all meet each other. However, on occasion I would have to go hunting for them. “Griffin, Max, time to go home!” At that time, I was also practicing slow and meditative walking in the woods. One part of the practice included stopping, closing my eyes and listening to the sounds of the woods, as well as connecting with my breath. The dogs were off running somewhere. I had slowly walked for a bit and then stopped, closed my eyes and listened. So much life, bird sounds, the wind moving through the trees, the branches creaking, and my breathing simply happening on its own. I stayed in this receptive state for perhaps a few minutes. When I slowly opened my eyes, there, directly in front of me, maybe 8 feet, stood a coyote, a very healthy looking one indeed. The coyote was also very still and curious, staring at me with golden eyes. I softly looked back like saying “hello.” And there we were for just a bit, just looking and breathing. How long is it when time stops? I don’t know, maybe less than a minute. My usual mind then popped in and whispered, “if the dogs come back, this will not be good.” Even that was said calmly but I realized the wisdom of it. With a bittersweet feeling, I looked at the coyote and said out loud “you need to go.” This was particularly sad because I love my direct encounters with other species and here was a very special one. The coyote simply turned around and “pranced” (they walk with their tail down) away into the trees. It left me with such a lovely impression. I continued walking and my dogs showed up a few minutes later and began sniffing the air. I put them on a leash, just in case, and we walked on the path and then went home.
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David FeldmanDog walker, Dog Mediator, Father, Husband, Categories |