The winds had picked up from this morning’s slight breeze, into a dust blowing, eye tearing, corn leaves whirling mess of a wind. Instead of coming in from the west, the winds are whipping around from the east blowing into the west.
For me, that means everything is being blown down the driveway out onto the road, and then sprinting across the miles of open farm fields.
With this type of wind I can’t think when I’m outside. My hair is going every which way, and sound is indistinguishable.
I called to Uriah, who was running in a circle with his hackles up. I pointed towards the path. He looked up. Then he looked down, and headed into the trees.
I shook my head at him, and started to walk on the muddy path. The night before Raccoons must have stayed up all night pooping. They had deposited load, after load on the path for me to step in. Slipping on the mud, I maneuvered carefully forward.
I could hear Uriah as he crashed through the underbrush to my left. He came running out in front of me and stopped.
I looked up. It wasn’t Uriah, but a coyote, bigger than Uriah, longer and taller, not fatter. This guy was slender. His coat was gold, beige, and light brown. His fur stuck out at odd angles and he blended in perfectly with the tall dried grass around me.
If he had stayed quietly off the path, hidden in the trees and grass, I would never have noticed him. Except this beautiful guy had been hunting, and even now had his paw on a rodent. He stood frozen.
Simultaneously we both noticed that there was only about a twelve inches between us. He turned his head slowly, with a look of, “Duh!” He let his prey go! Turned slowly away from me and raced up the path with his tail between his legs.
I just stood there, one foot still held in mid-stride. I had been taking a step when he ran out of the grass; I finished the movement, and stepped down.
Right on a pile of raccoon scat! You can guess what I said…
When I continued walking the coyote was already out of sight.
At that moment Uriah came charging up behind me, fur upright, growling, sniffing the ground then headed off in the same direction the coyote had ran, north. I decided to walk to the south. I could hear Uriah, as he huffed and puffed in the trees.
I headed back to the house. Uriah came up behind me, he looked very tired with his tongue dragging and a defeated look on his furry face.
Coyotes have never bothered me on my walks and I have seen many of them. I’m not worried, I am not coyote food. They eat rodents, and small animals. Uriah is too big to be eaten, and too slow to catch them.
Raccoons on the other hand are dangerous, they will attack a human. They are also irritating buggers.
I grabbed a stick and started to clean my shoes!
“Vernon Hills police” site –“Coyote Information”
“The name “coyote” (Latin name Canis Iatrans) comes from the Aztec word coyotl, which is loosely translated as “trickster”. Other names for the animal are brush wolf, swift wolf, prairie wolf and burrowing dog. The animal is in close relation to the wolf, fox and domesticated dog.”
Picture of coyote