Nature of Wildworks Newsletters

God's Dog

September 20, 1999

There was this young, wild coyote wandering around Topanga. People had been trying to catch it or trap it for what seemed the longest time, because many of us had noticed that one hind leg was dragging and some had said they'd even seen the bone exposed. And it was out there alone. We could hear its cries every night and, although beautiful, they were obviously solitary songs of pain and loneliness. Its family, it seemed, had left it behind to face a slow end.It was almost dead when I got the call. Lying by the side of the road, it would soon give up the struggle. There was even a rope around its neck, put there by some well-meaning person who didnt understand-didnt understand that even wild animals have to let go sometimes.The vet recommended euthanasia, but I couldn't kill her. Not after everything that had happened. I named her Mindy, after a coyote from my past that had also lost her way but, given time and encouragement grew into the bravest coyote I've ever known. She's here with me now, little Mindy, and she's doing okay, but there are unanswered questions still. There's a pin in her leg, and she still drags it when she walks. Only time will tell if it will heal correctly. We may still have to amputate.She's been living in a crate for two weeks now because I must keep the leg clean and dry. I catch her and treat her every day. I reach into the crate and put a towel over her eyes so she can't see what's coming. Then I grab her carefully by the back of the neck so as not to get bitten. Her renewed interest in survival has turned her back into a wild animal.I feel for her, I'll tell ya. She's now too scared to be tame-too tame to be wild. Maybe, that is. How can I say for sure? How can I look into her yellow eyes and know what is right for her?I sit here looking into her crate, and the unanswered questions hang in the air around us. We have a stare fight. Who will look away first? I know we both want answers."God's Dog" is what the native people call coyotes. 400,000 coyotes were killed last year in the U.S. and yet their numbers have increased. We shoot them, poison them, trap them, burn their dens, even tie them to the back of pickrup trucks and drag them to their deaths and still they sneak up to our doorsteps longing to be understood. They want to survive. They want to live even in the scary, limited world we accidently provide for them because we're not smart enough to conquer them-not smart enough to fool the "trickster". Am I playing God with God's Dog? Is it better to die a natural death than to be saved from it and given to a less than perfect life? What is a perfect life? Can I even try to define it for a coyoie? I think of the 400,000 that lost their lives to ignorance and cruelty and I know in my heart that Mindy is better off.Love saved Mindy. The love of life and the will to live it with all the risk and struggle that goes along. Because as imperfect as it is sometimes, a life in the wild hills of Topanga is one God's Dog could never turn down.The vet told me that he once watched a sheep-herding contest. Border collies, the smartest breed of dog, are used for this purpose and contests are held to see who can do the best job. The winner of the contest he watched was a dog with only 3 legs.Coyotes are one of the most adaptable species on earth and I just know Mindy can do it. She's the second bravest coyote I ever met.

I'll be sending her back out there in no time at all. Listen in the night, for you'll surely hear her. She'll be the one with the prettiest song.