Morning
 |
| Coyote runs free |
Our horses tell us what’s going on, here at Spiritwood. With pricked ears and gaze fixed due south, all Eric and I have to do is follow their line of sight.
Six coyotes were dashing across the snowy fields. Friday’s icy sleet gave them a firm surface upon which to race, and there they were, running free. Amazed at the energy they were expending, we watched as the pack split up: three came right for us, then veered west racing immediately south of the Steele Line. The other three sped eastwards.
With binoculars we enjoyed observing their glossy fur rising and falling as they moved. We thought the last of the three westward-bound animals looked old. Its fur appeared duller, perhaps a bit matted, and it was panting, unlike the two leaders who ran effortlessly with muzzles shut.
What a thrill to witness their morning race!
Suddenly our neighbours’dogs started barking, sounding the alarm. And then the inevitable... The crack of a rifle. Then a second “finishing” shot.
Coyote down. Was it the slowest one? I’ll never know.
That’s what it’s like living here on the edge, where the sanctuary of Gatineau Park opens into the killing fields of the countryside. Outside the Park, coyotes are considered noxious pests, not clever predators with a right to live, so as to keep whatever natural order is left in balance.
As for me and Eric? We mourn the loss of a magnificent wild creature. I can only hope its death was merciful and swift.
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