Arrow-right Camera
The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Encounter With A Coyote Offers A Glimpse At Nature’s Beauty

Ann Fennessy Special To Perspective

We are lucky to live at the edge of our housing development in North Spokane. Behind our home is a tract of 23 or so acres of meadow and healthy Ponderosa pine. Because my husband Lauren works at home, he is able to take our dogs out for a romp just about every day. When he opens the back gate, Tinker, Bob and Kate rush out, barking at each other in ecstasy, racing each other in circles and show-off-can’t-catch-me straightaways.

After they have run off the naughtiness, they settle down to the serious business of checking up on the News of the Meadow: where the red-tailed hawk has touched down, how many new ant holes are in progress, where Mr. Pheasant has been strutting his stuff, whether the quail family has hatched its chicks yet. But the most exciting prospect of the daily walk is whether or not the three of them can catch a gopher!

Kate, our Ridgeback-German shepherd mix, is the queen of excavating. If we could teach her to dig a straight line, we could hire her out to landscaping companies when they install sprinkler systems. Bob, or as the AKC papers would call him Van de Pier’s Zimbabwe Rake - knows his place as backup and circles around waiting for an opportunity to help out.

Bob is a purebred Rhodesian Ridgeback, a type of dog bred to hunt the large game of Africa, such as lions and wild boar. They do not kill the prey, but hold it at bay by lunging and snapping in teams with other pack members. Or they turn it back toward the hunter so he can kill it.

Tinker is a border collie sort of little thing I found abandoned years ago. She is the assassin and delivers the coup de grace to the gopher if Kate’s digging is successful.

Our dogs have developed a very efficient way of dealing with those pesky garden predators. Lauren and I appreciate it, and we have wondered how they would work together if a real predator happened upon them. Several weeks ago Lauren got the chance to see the dogs in action.

The walk had been pleasant and uneventful for the first 20 minutes or so. Lauren was traversing a small hill, with Bob and Kate in front of him, while Tinker, as is frequently the case, was off somewhere exploring things on her own. Suddenly, a horrifying shrieking bark brought the dogs and Lauren to a dead halt. Tinker was in trouble just over the rise!

The three of them took off running, and as Lauren reached the top of the hill, he saw a coyote straddling Tinker with its teeth around her neck. In the next moment, Bob and Kate reached the scene and the coyote took off running with them in hot pursuit. Lauren rushed up to little Tinker, who was struggling to her feet, obviously in pain. As he knelt to check her dense fur for damage, he heard the sound of the dogs returning in a hurry. He looked up to see that Kate and Bob had turned the coyote around and were herding it right back to Lauren.

In that moment, it occurred to him that all those years of lion-hunting genes were still strong in those magnificent dogs of ours. They had turned the prey toward him so that he could kill the “lion.” And if he’d had a gun, the next moments would have spelled doom for that coyote.

Kate stopped the chase to come and sniff at her friend, Tinker. But Bob (O, Noble Dog of Africa!), his undiluted blood flowing mightily through his veins, did not give up the chase. No! He was running right alongside the coyote, a huge grin on his face, as if to say: Hey, this is GREAT! Can you run any faster?”

So ended the adventure. The coyote got away. Tinker got 16 stitches and a lot of extra loving for the next few days. The vet told us that usually when someone brings in a dog that has tangled with a coyote, the dog is in pieces. We were very lucky that Bob and Kate arrived as soon as they did, since we feel sure that the coyote meant business. Tinker is fine now and doesn’t seem to remember the danger that might be lurking out there in the meadow.

I came away from the adventure with a renewed respect for my dogs, especially Bob because he didn’t grab the coyote by the neck and take care of him once and for all. After all, I didn’t get Bobby to kill stuff for me - not even coyotes. What I got him for was to be my running buddy. And damn, the boy can run!

Because of the adventure, my life is richer. I have an appreciation of my dogs and their incredible spirit. Even though they are domesticated, they harken back to the mixture of blood and skills that the hunters and farmers blended into them.

I also respect the coyote. Even though one had attacked so blatantly in the middle of the day, with a human so close by, I would hate to see the coyotes gone, simply because they are dangerous. Their very wildness in proximity to our increasing tameness is a huge benefit. It’s a gift that reminds us what the wealth is in our community. Our land and our spirits are not totally paved over.

We need to be aware of the wildness at our fringes and work hard to coexist, even if it means corn nibbled by deer, mounds in the ground made by gophers and stitches at the vet.

xxxx This sidebar appeared with the story: HE’LL BE BACK Spokesman-Review Editor Chris Peck is on vacation and so is his column. Both will return later this month.