Coyote population explosion good news, for varmint hunters
The reputation of coyotes has taken a beating lately, and not without reason.
I’ve always thought rather highly of their resourcefulness and resiliency in the face of persecution from humans, but at the present time these skinny little wild dogs are at the top of a lot of people’s hit lists.
Newspapers and websites are chock full of human run-ins with coyotes, who become attracted to residential areas by garbage or chickens. Cats are a prime target, even in urban areas. A familiar story in The Daily News last week told of a pet-owner’s run-in with them.
By all accounts, we have a bumper crop of coyotes this year. Whereas in past years we usually only saw an occasional loner passing through our place or stopping out in the hay field to hunt mice or marmots (and have wished them “good hunting” on that score), this winter they are abundant.
We often see a pair making their way along their “trap line,” and one recent morning we spotted four of them loping up the middle of the frozen North Thompson River.
Not long after, the ravens and magpies enjoyed a feast after our resident coyotes chased a deer onto the river ice and brought it down. The coyotes returned once in awhile to chase away the birds and top up. Before long, the carcass was nothing more than a pile of bones, picked clean before it disappeared entirely into the river at the next melt.
We’re serenaded nightly by their howling, and whenever an ambulance goes past on the Yellowhead across the river, they greet the siren like long-lost kin.
In native lore, Coyote is a trickster, curious, alternately wise and foolish, selfish and thoughtful, but usually conceited and with super powers. But most people have little respect for them; some fear them.
The North American coyote has been hunted, trapped, poisoned and generally persecuted as vermin, yet its survival is not threatened. It has a remarkable way of controlling its own population — when numbers go down, the birth rate goes up. When populations peak, the rate goes down.
That’s why this year’s abundance won’t last. That’s a curse or a blessing depending on your point of view. I’ve already received two offers from people who would be more than willing to engage in a little localized population control. Their idea of a good time is to use a special call — it sounds like a wounded rabbit, I’m told — to bring coyotes in close and then plug away at them.
I’m guessing that, in a day’s work, they could easily rid the neighbourhood of at least a dozen coyotes, but I’d hardly call it sport.
In 1974, I read a book called Man Kind? Our Incredible War On Wildlife by Cleveland Amory, an American journalist, humorist and author who championed the animal rights movement. I met this remarkable man through an organization I helped found called the Wildlife Protection Association.
Amory supported the group through his own Fund For Animals, and visited Kamloops a time or two. Among his many animal causes was protecting the coyote from persecution. In Man Kind? he wrote about the unstinting, and failed, efforts of American ranchers to kill off coyotes. Amory always thought coyotes got a bad rap.
The book includes a picture of several dead coyotes strung up on poles “to teach other coyotes a lesson.” He had a way of ridiculing his opponents that left little room for comeback.
Still, I can understand people’s reluctance to share their habitat with these mangy canines, and who might think the only good coyote is a dead one.
mrothenburger@kamloopsnews.ca
ArmchairMayor.ca 
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