Under Seige

After nearly fifteen years of relatively peaceful co-existence, the local coyotes have called off the truce.  There is a group of at least three young toughs who have gone rogue and become sheep killers.  They are likely litter mates that were born early this year and they seem to be lacking in older adults who might teach them some caution.  They attacked the sheep last week, right in the middle of the afternoon, and killed two lambs.  That might not seem like a huge lose to some of the big farms, but to a small farm like this, it is devastating, both emotionally and financially.

I find it hard to blame the coyotes as they have been under intense hunting pressure in the past few years and this is how they respond.  They breed faster, spread out, expand their territory and become more aggressive.  It is why coyotes are the only predator who's numbers and range have grown rather than declined in the past thirty years.  The harder we try to eliminate them, the more of them there are.

In addition, there is something really pressuring the coyotes right now.  We aren't sure what it is, but they are acting very out of character.  While we all hear coyotes almost every night, they are generally shy and it is very rare to actually see them.  These coyotes are coming out in the middle of the day and they are very brazen, fearless and difficult to deter.  It took both of us AND Connor and Bess to chase them out of the field one day last week.  That is not at all normal.

I respect and admire coyotes.  I also understand why ranchers and farmers hate them.

The question is: What to do?

Bess is doing her job and trying her best, but she is only one dog and can't protect an entire farm twenty-four hours a day.  She is grossly outnumbered and she has to sleep sometime.  Late Sunday night she had a big showdown with a large pack, at least 10-15 coyotes.  Her hysterical barking and the coyote's frenzied response had Farm Buddy heading out in the middle of the night, armed with a single-shot .22, to help Bess out.  She was afraid they might kill her.  One guard dog, no matter how fierce, is no match for an entire pack of desperate predators.

The sheep are going out only with supervision for the time being and we are trying to figure out what to do.  We have talked about different fencing options, adding more/different guard animals, finding hunters to go after them....I suspect though, that the problem won't go away unless and until the coyote population stabilizes once again.  We can only hope that everyone survives that long and then hope that the truce will be resumed.

Howling at the Blue Moon

There was a pack of coyotes behind my barn last night.  They were at the pond the night before.  They are very noisy this time of year as they call their pups out to water and start teaching them to hunt.  I have always liked coyotes, even when I lived out west and they were common, brazen and numerous as leaves on a tree.  I am in awe of their resiliency and adaptability.  They are the only species I am aware of that has responded to all attempts to eradicate them by growing their population and spreading out instead of dying off.

Coyotes respond to hunting pressure by breeding faster and more abundantly.  Left alone, a coyote pack reproduces much like wolves.  A single female has a litter of 3-5 pups each year and the whole pack raises them.  If that pack is hunted, all of the females will have pups.  They can go from raising 3-5 pups a year to raising 20-25.  The pack splits up and disperses, they find new territory.  Twenty five years ago, there were no coyotes in the Northeast, now they are in every state and are moving into Canada. 

I can understand the atavistic need to kill them off.  I remember vividly, turning the flood light on at my barn in California and seeing hundreds of glowing eyes staring back at me from the fence line.  When they start their eerie, frenzied yipping and howling right outside the window or, even worse, behind the barn where the baby donkey is dreaming, I can feel why people kill them.

Instead, I put on my boots and headed outside.  I watched Emma, on super high alert, hustle Ramsey out of the barn to the middle of the big field, far away from any tree lines or hiding places, ready and willing to take on all threats.  I watched Gabe and Tessa come galloping up from the lower field and charge out behind the barn, just itching to find a coyote to chase.  I walked out to the fence line and told them to leave me be and I would leave them be, just as I did years ago in California when I faced a hundred pairs of glowing eyes.  They melted away twenty some years ago just as they melted away last night. 

I smiled and went for a walk under the brilliant light of a blue moon.  The air like the softest whisper of silk, the most beautiful night we've had all summer.  After a while I heard the far off singing of coyotes farther down the ridge.  Another pack answered from the other direction.  Three years ago, there was one pack on this ridge, a neighbor told me he was going to "clear them varmints all out".  I counted four packs singing last night.