The Free Radical

Sometimes it’s best if I just admit that this is my circus, and these are my monkeys.

But first…

…let’s start with this butterfly.

The heatwave has abated and a few storms have grumbled through the valley… stirring everyone to action again.

What we’ve noticed most is the sheer numbers of visitors to our little corner of the woods.

There’s still fresh coyote poop everywhere while various cats patrol the roads at night.

While I was documenting footprints in the mud, the thirteenth snake got out from underfoot. The last two snakes, numbers eleven and twelve, inserted telepathic salutations in my mind just before I spotted them. For this one I was too preoccupied I suppose. (I always figured I was more Gryffindor than Slytherin, but I seem to have a real knack for parseltongue.)

The dark and the light are assembling into bands and striations.

And too often, it seems, we are asked to venture within the heart of darkness.

I don’t know what happened to this guy. It’s not like Sitka to toy with rodents; she just tends to kill them outright… when she can.

He managed to flip himself over when I moved in for a better shot, so I didn’t really know how badly he might be hurt. We let him be until the following day.

He didn’t make it through the night; it looked like the birds had gotten to him. Sometimes the Forest can be somewhat cruel.

And that brings us to the real story here. Yesterday, while we were walking along the power-line– myself and the three dogs– a coyote approached from the western tree-line, coming in very close. Then it began yipping very loudly at us– a very deliberate communique. As I fumbled around in my pack for the digital audio recorder, I told the dogs to all stay put… but they were immensely intrigued.

After a moment, Sitka took off running toward the noisome critter… with Toby following quickly on her heels. I yelled my absolute loudest growliest yell, but my dogs weren’t listening. Only Lhasa– the old girl– stayed by my side. Meanwhile, Sitka and Toby were busy falling for the oldest trick in the book… when it comes to coyotes.

We already knew that the coyotes in the area had loosely banded together as a co-operative. When domestic dogs encroach on their preferred hunting grounds, they go about trying to eliminate the competition. The individual coyote who came in so close was probably their fastest runner… presenting himself as bait.

The puppies totally fell for it… and I knew it. I kept whistling and calling, so at least the coyotes would get the impression that the dogs and I are all together– despite the young’uns having been lured off… foolishly. Sitka is very fast; Toby, not so much. Within a couple of minutes, Toby returned from the direction they’d all disappeared in, having basically lost the chase. Good! She didn’t know how lucky she was to have me scolding her in that moment. Sitka was still running straight into the trap. We waited… and listened.

The yipping resumed way off in the distance… from the opposite side of the power-line. The chase had circled from the west going south, and now they were in the east… where presumably the rest of the pack waited. There was a lot of noise, and I kept whistling, hoping that Sitka was fast enough to get away once she realized her error.

After a minute, the sounds died down, though I kept whistling for Sitka. Another minute after that she appeared south of us, down the length of the power-line. Usually when she knows that she’s in trouble, Sitka will take her sweet time coming back once she’s back in sight. This time though, she just kept running straight for us. As far as we could tell, there was no one in pursuit any longer.

I noticed right away that there was blood around her mouth.

There was also some blood on her neck and down her front legs. I inspected her closely, but I could find no obvious injury. The blood must’ve belonged to a coyote. Sitka is no fighter, but she is slightly bigger than your average coyote, and like I said, she can run very fast. She had fallen for the oldest coyote trick in the book… but had managed to get away with her mistake nevertheless.

I still gave her supreme shit. Sometimes she really does have to listen to me… despite being originally initiated into the Forest Life by Cougar.

Later that evening, Sitka was in a great deal of pain, apparently having injured her back left leg. There were no visible signs of injury, but she whined pitiably every time she got up and refused to put any significant weight on it.

This morning she’s considerably better… and now she’s even insisting that she’s ready to resume her regular patrol of the woods… hopefully a little wiser.

(Note: the tricksters are up to their worn-out tricks. Only the youngest or most naive among us will fall for their shit now. Keep a close eye on the young’uns and the dumb’uns!)