One less...

Hunting coyotes is a sport around here.  The deer population is down this year due to an increase in coyotes.  Where livestock is kept the owner has the right to shoot predators.  And a certain level of responsibility since compensation for losses due to wild animals is a provided by the province – that means you taxpayers.

The hunter, Mr. Robert, was referred to us by a service man who has done a fair bit of work for us here.  We had asked Mr. Robert to send us an email when he planned to come and hunt on the property. 

I was in the big city for the afternoon and evening so this really is hubby’s story.  When he returned home from work he found a note from Mr. Robert.

Hubby got the wheelbarrow and headed back to the cabin.  Late home from work there was not much light left in the day.  She wasn’t too big to lift into the wheelbarrow; she being the dead coyote.  At the barn everyone’s full attention was on that wheelbarrow.  Part of this is that the animals were looking for dinner.  I had given them ‘lunch’ which I normally don’t do, to see them through the day until hubby gave them a ‘light dinner’ and tucked them into the barn.

Henrietta came over and looked at the carcass.  She startled, wiggled and squiggled and scampered away quickly – our collective powers of exposition are inadequate to describe Henrietta’s peculiar movements.  I have wondered before if she is afraid of coyotes, perhaps having been chased by one or more since her arrival here.

Ruby looked then growled deeply, recognizing this as an intruder.  Millie leapt for the coyote’s throat which resulted in her landing in the wheelbarrow, and then she began to drag it out.  Thus, one can surmise Millie has had some serious experience with coyotes and has little fear of doing her job.

All of the sheep gathered around the wheelbarrow.  I transport hay several times a day in a wheelbarrow so this activity is literally the arrival of the ‘haybox’ – the military cook’s food vessel .

In addition to these observations, take note of Mr. Robert’s comments regarding the dogs.  He was not willing to enter the field where the dogs guard the sheep.  A pair of workmen had arrived earlier in the day and the experienced fellow told the new lad not to go near that big white dog; don’t put your hand over the fence…  There is a very healthy respect about for the big white dogs.

It was a late half past eleven when I arrived home, noting that hubby had put on a lot of outside lights for me which I thought was sweet.  As I was unloading the car, Beau dog appeared to greet me, and then hubby.  It had gotten very cold outside.  I was not used to being greeted in this way, especially so late in the evening as usually hubby is sleeping by now. 

“Leave your stuff and come and see the dead coyote” he said.

“The what?!  You shot a coyote?”  I responded.

“I didn’t, but Mr. Robert did” And he began to tell me about his evening.

The female coyote appears to me to be a young one, born this year.  As we later viewed a photo hubby had sent to Mr. Robert we admired the colours in her coat.  Its lovely coat does not change the way we feel about this cunning predator that eats our sheep!

And so when hubby sent Mr. Robert an email to thank him and tell him where he left the carcass for retrieval, Mr. Robert came back with “One less coyote eating your sheep”.