The day the coyote came ~
Life was forever changed. The voices and promise of two brooding female ducks were silenced. There would be no continuation of the Coco and Peeps line.
Our beautiful black and green iridescent feathered Peeps was gone and so was her mother. They had chosen a site for their nesting away from all the commotion of the backyard. Down in a quiet space, adjacent to one of the dog yards. There was concern that they had picked a spot that too far away for safety, but it was within and area observed by the arctic America and his enclosure mate Chance. Surely a marauder would be scared off by the part dog, part wolf vocalization and scent. Most coyotes cut a wide swath away from anything that sounds like or smells like wolf. Wolves being the top dog on the canine totem pole for millennia.
Even when the females are sitting their nests they will take breaks and make their way to the pond for a bit of food and refreshment. This procession of two females and their three males always included the raucous sounds, duck voices murmuring and quacking. Their own language, one that I always found comforting. Then the females would be escorted back to their nests by the three male entourage. The duck boys protected the females from unwanted advances by the other competing duck camp, which includes three males and a sitting female of their own. If there was any raping or pillaging of their females it would be done by them, thank you very much!!
All the unique sounds of the duck community had filled the air, had become a shinning thread in the tapestry of my life lived in the country. Then it was gone. Only a sad silence filled the air, my life had a little less humor and sweetness.
That day started with a surprise and ended in sadness. I had just come out of the yurt and was headed up to the house. All of a sudden I saw ducks flying by 3 feet off the ground headed for the pond. I had never seen them leave the ground before, they don’t fly! It was crazy, like they were being chased…and they were. Standing about 30ft away, outside my fence was a coyote that had been in duck pursuit. My mind couldn’t process what it was seeing. Was it one of our dogs? How did it get out? No, too small, why aren’t the dogs reacting? No noise, nothing, time stopped. The coyote stood at the ponds edge and we locked eyes. “Hey! Hey! Get Outta Here!” He looked again at the ducks then back at me. “Hey What Do You Think You Are Doing? Get Outta Here!” waving my arms helplessly. Then he was gone, back the way he had come, by America and Chance’s yard.
The dogs never said a word, they fluffed out, tails up, on alert, but not a sound. If a dog could stand slack jawed then that is a good description. The fierce wolfdogs I live with once again proved to be great watch dogs, they stood there and watched the whole thing unfold.
I am sure that is when we lost Coco and Peeps. The remains, black and white feathers, and one lone egg were found a couple days later. I understand the circle of prey and predator; I understand survival and natural instinct. But the loss, the empty space is still there. There won’t be the loud squawking of Coco as she assumed her role as the matriarchal power of the flock. There won’t be ducklings to watch grow and mature this season. Even the males look lost.
As with all things death is the loss of those left behind. The empty space, dreams that seem too quickly ended, silence where there had been connection. So it is and always will be. If the ducks had not lost their lives to coyotes, in a few years natural causes would have claimed them, will claim us. Interesting isn’t it? We all board the life train when we come to this earth, we all have tickets that will bring us to that final destination we call death. No excuses, no exceptions, it’s just the question of when and where. So I have decided that for me, each day is a privilege. A privilege to live, a privilege to explore and consume. More precious on a day like this when I mourn the loss of two beings that brought humor, beauty, and connection to my life.
Bye Coco, bye Peeps you will be missed.
Life was forever changed. The voices and promise of two brooding female ducks were silenced. There would be no continuation of the Coco and Peeps line.
Our beautiful black and green iridescent feathered Peeps was gone and so was her mother. They had chosen a site for their nesting away from all the commotion of the backyard. Down in a quiet space, adjacent to one of the dog yards. There was concern that they had picked a spot that too far away for safety, but it was within and area observed by the arctic America and his enclosure mate Chance. Surely a marauder would be scared off by the part dog, part wolf vocalization and scent. Most coyotes cut a wide swath away from anything that sounds like or smells like wolf. Wolves being the top dog on the canine totem pole for millennia.
Even when the females are sitting their nests they will take breaks and make their way to the pond for a bit of food and refreshment. This procession of two females and their three males always included the raucous sounds, duck voices murmuring and quacking. Their own language, one that I always found comforting. Then the females would be escorted back to their nests by the three male entourage. The duck boys protected the females from unwanted advances by the other competing duck camp, which includes three males and a sitting female of their own. If there was any raping or pillaging of their females it would be done by them, thank you very much!!
All the unique sounds of the duck community had filled the air, had become a shinning thread in the tapestry of my life lived in the country. Then it was gone. Only a sad silence filled the air, my life had a little less humor and sweetness.
That day started with a surprise and ended in sadness. I had just come out of the yurt and was headed up to the house. All of a sudden I saw ducks flying by 3 feet off the ground headed for the pond. I had never seen them leave the ground before, they don’t fly! It was crazy, like they were being chased…and they were. Standing about 30ft away, outside my fence was a coyote that had been in duck pursuit. My mind couldn’t process what it was seeing. Was it one of our dogs? How did it get out? No, too small, why aren’t the dogs reacting? No noise, nothing, time stopped. The coyote stood at the ponds edge and we locked eyes. “Hey! Hey! Get Outta Here!” He looked again at the ducks then back at me. “Hey What Do You Think You Are Doing? Get Outta Here!” waving my arms helplessly. Then he was gone, back the way he had come, by America and Chance’s yard.
The dogs never said a word, they fluffed out, tails up, on alert, but not a sound. If a dog could stand slack jawed then that is a good description. The fierce wolfdogs I live with once again proved to be great watch dogs, they stood there and watched the whole thing unfold.
I am sure that is when we lost Coco and Peeps. The remains, black and white feathers, and one lone egg were found a couple days later. I understand the circle of prey and predator; I understand survival and natural instinct. But the loss, the empty space is still there. There won’t be the loud squawking of Coco as she assumed her role as the matriarchal power of the flock. There won’t be ducklings to watch grow and mature this season. Even the males look lost.
As with all things death is the loss of those left behind. The empty space, dreams that seem too quickly ended, silence where there had been connection. So it is and always will be. If the ducks had not lost their lives to coyotes, in a few years natural causes would have claimed them, will claim us. Interesting isn’t it? We all board the life train when we come to this earth, we all have tickets that will bring us to that final destination we call death. No excuses, no exceptions, it’s just the question of when and where. So I have decided that for me, each day is a privilege. A privilege to live, a privilege to explore and consume. More precious on a day like this when I mourn the loss of two beings that brought humor, beauty, and connection to my life.
Bye Coco, bye Peeps you will be missed.
Such beautiful feather folk! They taught us alot about duck life, and brought a HUGE amount of peace and tranquility to Wolfdancer Creek. I shall (and do, every day) miss their presence here. This is such a lovely tribute! Thank you...
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