Gunnison, CO. There were two pairs of those beady eyes. I had turned back just to see how much work it would be to climb back up the edge of the severely eroded laccolith. And there they were: two coyotes, with their acute powers of observation. They moved down the rocky edge as I did. Were they following -- stalking -- Coffee Girl and me? Surprisingly, she didn't sense the two coyotes up the ledge.
Coyotes are just 35-40 pound dogs, with the same weapons that a domestic dog has. But I have learned the hard way what kind of damage they can do, with their sneakiness. Even worse, they were hunting as a pair; I almost always see solo coyotes.
An instinct of extreme protectiveness kicks in, at times like this -- protectiveness for my kelpie, Coffee Girl, that is. They might have some tricks up their sleeves by acting as a pair of killers. Recall the fate of the Australian hunter in the original "Jurassic Park." Remember when he took his hunting rifle out to match wits with the dinosaurs that hunted as pairs -- or was it triples? "Clever girl..."
The coyotes had the speed and the fangs, but I had a vast arsenal of baseball-sized rocks to throw. The rest of the armory consisted of a hunting knife and a small cartridge of pepper spray. I clipped Coffee Girl on her leash so that the pair of coyotes couldn't play any mind-games on her.
One of the coyotes was larger and bolder than the other. Wikipedia claims they typically hunt in pairs, sometimes as a mother and a yearling.
I almost wished for them to come in for the kill. I wanted revenge for what one almost accomplished on my little poodle a few years ago. Remember "The Last of the Mohicans."
Magua (the fierce Huron who hated the English): "The Grey Hair's (an English colonel) children were under Magua's knife. They escaped. They will be under it, again."
French general: "Why do you hate the Grey Hair, Magua?"
Magua: "When the Grey Hair is dead, Magua will eat his heart."
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There is something threatening and dangerous about any predator moving along a ridgeline, especially if it is silhouetted. Years ago, there was a best-seller named, "Lonesome Dove." I read it, just to see what all the fuss was about. I never really did understand why it was popular. But there was one memorable scene between the two main characters: one of them warned the other that there were safer ways to go around hills than straight over the top of them. You were too likely to be unpleasantly surprised by what you found when you reached the top.
So it has always seemed to me. There is always a little tension when surmounting a small rise in hilly or ridge-y country. You are the landlubber equivalent of a sea kayaker, wallowing in the trough of a wave which obscures his view. But his imagination can reach out past the crest of the nearest wave, out to the enormity of danger on all sides -- Danger that can swallow him in one gulp.
These images popped into mind in just a few seconds after seeing the two ghouls on the rocky ledge. It made for quite an interesting experience. (I said "interesting" -- not "nice" or "pretty.") Of course I soon realized that my imagination was getting carried away. But maybe people who have watched Ingmar Bergman's "The Seventh Seal" will never be able to get the image at the end of the movie completely out of their minds.
Coyotes are just 35-40 pound dogs, with the same weapons that a domestic dog has. But I have learned the hard way what kind of damage they can do, with their sneakiness. Even worse, they were hunting as a pair; I almost always see solo coyotes.
An instinct of extreme protectiveness kicks in, at times like this -- protectiveness for my kelpie, Coffee Girl, that is. They might have some tricks up their sleeves by acting as a pair of killers. Recall the fate of the Australian hunter in the original "Jurassic Park." Remember when he took his hunting rifle out to match wits with the dinosaurs that hunted as pairs -- or was it triples? "Clever girl..."
The coyotes had the speed and the fangs, but I had a vast arsenal of baseball-sized rocks to throw. The rest of the armory consisted of a hunting knife and a small cartridge of pepper spray. I clipped Coffee Girl on her leash so that the pair of coyotes couldn't play any mind-games on her.
One of the coyotes was larger and bolder than the other. Wikipedia claims they typically hunt in pairs, sometimes as a mother and a yearling.
I almost wished for them to come in for the kill. I wanted revenge for what one almost accomplished on my little poodle a few years ago. Remember "The Last of the Mohicans."
Magua (the fierce Huron who hated the English): "The Grey Hair's (an English colonel) children were under Magua's knife. They escaped. They will be under it, again."
French general: "Why do you hate the Grey Hair, Magua?"
Magua: "When the Grey Hair is dead, Magua will eat his heart."
________________________________________________
There is something threatening and dangerous about any predator moving along a ridgeline, especially if it is silhouetted. Years ago, there was a best-seller named, "Lonesome Dove." I read it, just to see what all the fuss was about. I never really did understand why it was popular. But there was one memorable scene between the two main characters: one of them warned the other that there were safer ways to go around hills than straight over the top of them. You were too likely to be unpleasantly surprised by what you found when you reached the top.
So it has always seemed to me. There is always a little tension when surmounting a small rise in hilly or ridge-y country. You are the landlubber equivalent of a sea kayaker, wallowing in the trough of a wave which obscures his view. But his imagination can reach out past the crest of the nearest wave, out to the enormity of danger on all sides -- Danger that can swallow him in one gulp.
These images popped into mind in just a few seconds after seeing the two ghouls on the rocky ledge. It made for quite an interesting experience. (I said "interesting" -- not "nice" or "pretty.") Of course I soon realized that my imagination was getting carried away. But maybe people who have watched Ingmar Bergman's "The Seventh Seal" will never be able to get the image at the end of the movie completely out of their minds.
Comments
I have found this to be true of many books that are awarded the Pulitzer, it is more a recognition of previous works that were passed over rather than for the one that gets the Prize. This has become more true in the past 3-4 decades as political correctness has started to rule American culture.
and usually will not attack a dog for food. However, coyotes do view dogs as competition for territory,
food and mates. Coyotes protect their territory just like a dog will protect a yard. Therefore, if a dog, or
any animal, enters a coyote’s territory, the coyotes will chase it off, or attack it if it won’t be chased away.
This can also happen when dogs are walked off‐leash in natural areas. Coyotes are most protective of their
territory when they are mating, January through March, and when they have pups, May through June.
You probably know all this. From www.LCFPD.org
Your imagery is always interesting. Naturally, you felt a threat and that brings thoughts of the ultimate price one might pay.
Interesting scene at the end of the movie. Might get that one.
I'm waiting for Amazon's price for "The Seventh Seal" to drop.
Horseman, Pass By - which became Hud as a film
The Last Picture Show - film of the same name
Terms of Endearment - film of the same name
This is based on the books, I only saw the film Hud and the mini-series Lonesome Dove. The adaptions to film always leave me disappointed after reading the book. For me, McMurtry's later books read like screen plays so I think his success in film has negatively influenced his books.
That one coyote was not shy about posing for the camera!