A few days ago, my wife was walking through our woods and heard a ruckus followed by Pip and Mercy in hot pursuit of something.  Then, out comes what my wife described as a very healthy coyote (in our parts, the word coyote is pronounced thusly: "kI-oat").  The reason "healthy" is an important qualifier here, is that coyotes in the wild, for the most part, don't particularly look healthy.  They're generally quite slender and small with dull coats.  This one had apparently been eating well---no doubt feeding on the natives of the woods that are heavily populated with rabbits, squirrels, possums, coons (for your yankees, that's "opossums" and "racoons")...and, of course, small dogs. At this point we've pretty much resigned ourselves to the belief that this was the fate of Gus.

 

Yesterday, again, my wife was walking through the woods, and she suddenly heard Bonnie crying out.  My wife called out and ran towards the sound to find Bonnie running scared.  Miraculously, she'd escaped the jaws of the coyote, although not unscathed.  She'd been bitten pretty badly for a dog her size.  My wife took her to the veterinarian (E.T. Terry, DVM at Morton's Small Animal Clinic). After shaving and cleaning the wound, it was discovered that Bonnie had two canine punctures on the left side of her thorax and a bruise on the other side.  By all signs, the coyote had her in its jaws in a very vulnerable position. Bonnie's quickness and my wife's loud yelling are probably what saved her.

 

Bonnie is doing fine now.  We're giving her oral antibiotics and wound care.  As a result of these events we obviously won't be letting her roam the woods alone.  Until, of course the coyote is dead.  Yep, you heard right.  We're not exactly tree-huggers.  Our initial inclination is to live in harmony with nature and to "live and let live".  At this point, the coyote is not playing by the rules.  The fact that he brazenly hunts during the day and feeds on my dogs is enough to justify his elimination.  So he. must. die.  Now, when we go into the woods, we're packing firearms.