Being Stalked

A friend calls them "yotes."

Coyotes.

My first winter here, most nights I heard their yipping and barking in the wee hours. I remember being especially concerned because neighbors had adopted an adult Sheltie that had run off. People would report spotting him in the area but he wouldn't come to anyone. Every time I heard the coyotes calling, I feared for that dog. It was December, cold, with snow on the ground. How could he survive? Amazingly, wonderfully, he appeared at a house after two weeks on his own, ready to accept food and warmth. He's been happily with his adopted family ever since.

While I often heard the coyotes, at night, or saw their prints in the snow in my driveway or in the forest, I almost never saw one.

This winter, I don't know that I've heard the coyotes calling even once. Am I simply sleeping more soundly, used to their barks? I don't think so - I'm a light sleeper and often awake all hours of the night. My friend who refers to them as 'yotes thinks that the increasing number of wolves near us is decreasing the number of 'yotes. Could be.

A couple weeks ago I wrote about the coyote who came to visit Maia one night. That was disturbing mostly because coyotes will apparently entice dogs to follow them, leading them away and right to a waiting pack. Once they start calling to each other, as my friend notes, "they seem to just come out of nowhere and form a huge pack." Not a pleasant thought for dog lovers. Maia didn't seem inclined to chase this guy; she stayed inside the fenced yard, despite being easily able to jump over it because of the deep snow. But I'm not sure, had Meadow been in the yard with her, that they wouldn't have tried to give chase. That thought kept me from sleeping soundly for several nights. Still does. Until the snow melts, I'm going to be nervous about them leaving the yard, even though they've never done it.

When it comes to the girls and their safety, I'm a worrier.

Yesterday morning the girls and I hiked up into the forest, our usual route. The only route in the winter snow. We'd only made it a quarter mile up the forest road when both girls heard something and went to the edge of the road to look down a hillside into a snow-choked gully. I followed their gaze, and we all saw movement: a coyote, running away from us, up the far side of the gully. He crossed the road we'd just come up, and continued up the hillside. He stopped to look back at us.

After grabbing Meadow and putting the leash on her - and telling Maia to stay - I fumbled with my camera, which (luckily) was already out. The coyote cooperated by staying where he was, looking back through the trees at us. Then he sat down, very at ease, as if waiting for me to get it together. I'm lousy at judging distances, but I would guess him to have been about a football field away. Very casual.

I would have preferred he kept running away. I was uneasy that he felt comfortable enough to sit and watch us. Was this the same coyote who visited Maia several nights ago? Was he truly alone? We see coyote tracks on this road all the time, but rarely the coyote. I know they're out there, but I'd rather they avoid us and remain hidden. This one was too brash for my taste.

Keeping Meadow on leash, we continued to hike up the hill a bit. Both girls would often stop and look behind us, or into the forest beside us, ears perked and twitching for sound, noses sniffing the air, eyes scanning. I never rushed them; I wanted them to keep track of the coyote if he was stalking us. Maia seemed nervous and kept nudging me to turn back.

We didn't go much higher into the forest. The girls were on edge, and so was I. I put Maia on the coupler before heading back down, because on the return leg of any outing, she has a tendency to lead the way, getting too far ahead for my comfort. I'm glad I did add Maia to the leash, because within a minute of doing so and heading back down the road, I caught movement off to my right, in the trees alongside the road.

He was stalking us. Or - if stalking isn't the most accurrate term, sounding more sinister than reality - he was very curious and keeping an eye on us. He quickly melted into the forest, beyond my sight, showing some caution or fear. But not enough. Maybe I should have made more noise, sounded threatening, so he wouldn't try to approach us again.

The girls didn't actually see him moving, as I did. I stand taller; a snow bank and the gentle curve of the hillside prevented them from seeing him.

Now here's where it got interesting. Seconds after I spotted the coyote and he ran off - and away - into the forest, the girls caught his scent! They both, simultaneous, starting pulling, down the road and around a curve, to the spot where the coyote had just been following us, until jumping off into the forest, where I saw him.

The girls went right to his tracks, sticking their noses full into the indentation in the snow, taking in huge, noisy, deep breaths of his scent, then looking into the forest in the direction he had just gone. Their bodies were tense with excitement, looking for more tracks, scanning the forest.

The coyote left the girls two bright yellow calling cards, on the edge of the road, down the hill a few more feet. One near the tip of a tree sticking up out of the snow, another on a big ball of snow fallen from a high tree limb. Boy 'yote, for sure. The girls took their time inhaling that scent as well.

The girls remained alert and very interested until we were nearly at the forest boundary, when they relaxed. Despite Maia's anxiety when we were hiking higher into the forest, neither girl seemed afraid, especially when they were coupled together on the leash. And that lack of fear is what worries me. I'd rather they react as they did to the wolf two summers ago - tail down, wary and cautious, wanting no close encounter.

I'm puzzled by all this. Is this a coyote trying to lure the girls into chasing him, hoping to lead them to a pack of coyotes who would then attack? Or is he a lone, lonely, curious coyote, much like the wolf two years ago? Is this coyote trying to figure out who the girls are, looking so much like wolves but hanging out with a human, inhabiting what he considers his territory? Is he trying to determine whether they're a threat? As one friend noted, upon hearing this story, it must be confusing for the girls - and probably the coyote; are they friends, or foes?

Whatever the scenario, I'm more concerned than ever that Meadow in particular, but both girls, not chase ANYTHING in the forest. With deep snow on the ground they don't really try going off the packed road, but soon the snow will be gone and they'll have clear access to anything they see moving in the forest. Time to reinforce all the "Leave it!" command work of the past. And to always be acutely aware of their reactions to our surroundings, so I can grab Meadow before she takes off after something!

Photos: top one was taken just seconds before the girls heard something moving down in the gully and we all went to the right edge of the road to see the coyote moving away from us; the next three are of the coyote, taken with my camera's telephoto full on but still grainy. While there's nothing to give scale, trust me: he was big. Not as big as the girls, but big.