Side Streets ~ Neighborhood people and issues

Archive for the 'coyote' Tag

LITTLE JOEY ESCAPES KILLER BUT DANGER LURKS

January 12th, 2013, 12:01 pm by

Joey, the 18-month-old Yorkie, owned by Frank and Mary VerHey

Little Joey came running up to greet me with a smile on his face. He was so adorable I barely noticed the bite marks on the head of the 5-pound, 18-month-old Yorkie.

A few days before Christmas, Joey had been snatched by a coyote as he played in the yard, chasing birds.

Luckily, Joey’s owner, 84-year-old Frank VerHey, was standing close by at his work bench and saw the abduction.

“That sonofagun coyote jumped over the fence, picked Joey up by the head and took off,” Frank told me Wednesday.

Frank immediately gave chase, running after the predator as his pup dangled and flopped from the coyote’s mouth.

“He jumped back over the fence with me after him,” Frank said. “He cut across the street. I ran as fast as I could run.”

Frank VerHey and his dog, Joey, in the backyard of their home in Emerald Acres Mobile Home Park on North Cascade Avenue. (Photo by Christian Murdock / The Gazette)

For a few frantic minutes, Frank followed them through his neighbors’ yards, up the street and down the alley of the Emerald Acres Mobile Home Park on north Cascade Avenue, near a bend in Monument Creek.

“I’m 84 years old with a pacemaker,” Frank said, vividly recalling each step in the chase. “I was trying to follow that little bugger.”

It must have been quite the scene: Frank running and hollering for help; a neighbor screaming as the coyote raced toward her with little Joey; and finally another neighbor confronting the escaping canine, causing it to drop Joey in a heap and race off.

“He dropped him in the middle of D Street,” Frank said. “He was bleeding bad. I picked him up and ran him to the hospital. They told me he didn’t have a 20 percent chance of making it.”

But three days later, and after $1,900 worth of surgery to close his wounds, Joey was declared a Christmas miracle and released. Frank and his wife of 62 years, Mary, celebrated the return of their little dog.

Unfortunately, the story doesn’t end there.

Even as we spoke, the would-be kidnapper and his pals were trotting through the 18-acre field that separates the creek from the mobile home park and Frank and Mary’s trailer.

It was mid-afternoon but the five coyotes were not shy as a couple of them rough-housed on a pile of dirt near the Pikes Peak Greenway Trail along the creek.

And that’s the problem. Frank said the coyotes aren’t afraid of humans. They hang around all the time. Even hop in the yard and steal pieces of bread he tosses to the birds he feeds in his yard.

“They are so brazen,” Frank said. “They roam around here like they own the place. Do we have to live like this, worried that they’re going to grab our dog and kill him?”

So I called Michael Seraphin, spokesman for the state Division of Parks and Wildlife. Surely, I suggested, there must be something Frank can do to protect his pet from coyotes. How about shooting them with a small-caliber rifle or pellet gun.

As usual, I was wrong.

“In the county, you’d just shoot them,” Seraphin said bluntly. “But you can’t do that in the city.”

It’s open season on coyotes year-round. And if you kill them on your property, you don’t even need a small game hunting license.

But only in unincorporated areas of the county. Not within city limits, where it’s illegal to discharge a weapon.

And it seems the coyotes have figured out they are free to hunt and kill in the city with impunity.

“Urban coyotes feel very brazen,” Seraphin said, echoing Frank. “They never get harassed, shot at or killed for hanging around people.

“They believe people are not a threat.”

Instead, they’ve learned we are a source of food. As a result, coyotes range across the Pikes Peak region, feasting on deer, fox, rabbit, squirrel, mice and anything humans carelessly leave out including bird food and garbage.

“They are omnivores and will eat anything,” Seraphin said. “They catch small mammals like mice and other rodents. And they’ll catch foxes as well as dogs and cats.”

So what are people like Frank supposed to do to protect their pets? I’ve written about rural neighborhoods that hired companies to set out live traps. But Seraphin said coyotes typically are too smart to enter an enclosure. And leg-hold traps are illegal in Colorado and only permitted if there is a threat to human health.

A coyote in a live trap.

Seraphin suggested everyone who sees coyotes should haze the animals. Scream at them. Throw rocks or cans at them. Spray them with hoses. Make them feel unwelcome.

One option is buying cans of pepper spray that can hit a target 20 feet away. But Seraphin cautioned even pepper spray requires practice to use — aim low so it doesn’t blow back on you.

“Coyotes are becoming an increasing problem in urban areas across North America,” he said. “It’s a difficult question of how to deal with any predator in an urban setting.”

For Frank, it means keeping close track of Joey and finding ways to dissuade the coyotes from lurking near his place.

“I put up motion detectors and lights hoping that might keep them away,” Frank said as Joey happily circled the yard, scampering after birds. “But I guess I just won’t leave Joey alone for a second.”

A coyote runs across a field behind Frank VerHey’s backyard Wednesday, Jan. 9, 2013. VerHey’s little dog, Joey, nearly died in December when a coyote snatched him out of VerHey’s yard on North Cascade Avenue . (The Gazette, Christian Murdock)

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THEY SHOOT BEARS, DON’T THEY?

September 4th, 2010, 11:22 pm by

Before moving here in 1994, I’d always lived in very urban neighborhoods in cities to the east. I was shocked to see all the wildlife that lives among the neighborhoods of Colorado Springs.

For 13 years, we’ve lived next to an open space in Rockrimmon and have a front-row seat for watching deer, coyote (I spotted this one on Christmas morning 2007), bobcat, fox.  I’m still hoping to see a rare mountain lion.

What I enjoy the most is seeing the bears. Typically, they emerge from the open space at night and trigger our security lights.

This cinammon black bear has been a regular visitor to our backyard for years. Usually, she has a cub or two following behind her.

I’ve always considered it a privilege to live so close to nature. I never considered calling the Division of Wildlife when the bears came and knocked down the neighbors’ birdfeeders or tossed open trash cans. I just shrugg it off.

I didn’t consider calling DOW after a bobcat raided my kids’ rabbit hutch and attacked my dog. I was upset but shrugged if off as the price of living among wild animals.

Last fall, I was lucky enough to watch the old, cinammon bear turn on one of her cubs, a young adult, and angrily chase him up a tree.

He had been following her and I believe she was tired of him competing with her for food and let him know it. The confrontation was dramatic and the young adult was unhappy.

Luckily, he ran up a tree just off our bedroom and we were eye-to-eye. He huffed and barked at us from the branches.

 This spring, she showed as usual with three new cubs, foraging at night mostly. The young adult came around, too. But he avoided her and made his rounds in the daytime.

We’ve spotted him in the mornings, crossing the street or digging in a neighbor’s trash which had been set at the curb for pickup.

I met  him twice this summer. The first time, I had opened my garage in the early morning to load luggage into my car for a trip. He happened to wander into the garage while I was inside the house getting our bags.

I came out and he was trying to open a refrigerator deep inside my garage in a mud room. We were both startled. I ran back inside and pounded on the walls to chase him out of the garage.

I met him again a few weeks ago. Earlier in the day, he came right up to one neighbor, chasing her into her house. He walked up the stairs to her front door before sauntering off. He was not scared of her.

That evening, he came in my garage while I was unloading groceries. He got the fridge in my mud room open and drained a gallon of juice. Then he went after a plastic trash can full of dog food.

He would not leave no matter how much I yelled at him, or threw brooms and other objects. He just glared at me and ate dog food. Finally, I ran to my car and blasted the horn until he retreated.

He came back a few minutes later, even jumped on a small wooden fence and huffed at me as I swept up the dog food. He scared me.

So I think I understand how those folks felt last week when they were confronted in their homes by bears. It’s sad six died in three days. I wish there was another solution.

 But I’m convinced this young adult is not afraid of humans and has identified houses as a source of food. He’s dangerous, in my book. Especially to my 11-year-old son.

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