It's finally snowing. There's nothing like a snowball fight and a romp in the snow with a puppy to get through that afternoon tiredness that demands a long nap. The problem with actually taking that long nap is that I often wake up disoriented, with a headache, and it interferes with my sleep during the coming night.
Last night, I woke to a long, loud cry, a sound that seemed to be coming from inside the house. In my confusion, I went upstairs, thinking that Nick might still be feeling sick and that the noise came from him. He was sound asleep. As I crawled back into my bed, I heard the sound again, a coyote howling, this time a little further from my window. Hopefully, my coyotes were thinning the rodent population around my house last night. I've never seen my coyotes. They come late at night, romp across the back deck, never pausing, singing in the night. Their cry is more eerie than a loon's, ranging from a dog's howl to a woman laughing in the dark. I love the sound of their voices, but it raises the hair on the back of my neck. I don't stand outside when I hear them howling so closely. I love to look into the cats' eyes when we hear that wild sound together.
I wondered what they thought of the new smells, of Teddy and his his yellow snow. Can a canine smell age in the marks that are left behind? I'm sure they can smell the richness of the food offered to our little guy. Can they tell how brave a dog is, or how tired, or how healthy? Dogs can smell cancer. Are the other things apparent as well? I'm sure they can smell that this dog is always accompanied by a human. I hope my human smell will help to protect us since we walk, sometimes, at dusk. In my mind, dusk is a hunting time, but I've never heard coyotes howl before 11 pm. Maybe it's because I understand black bear better than coyote. Black bear, in all the camping I've ever done, have always come foraging for food at dawn or at dusk.
The other day, it was deep dusk when Teddy and I walked our familiar trail up by Lake Alice. We met two groups of people we knew from school and from church. We stood and talked while the kids played with the puppy. As each group departed, someone always said to watch out. One said to watch out for the coyotes. I doubt that coyotes would mess with a thirty pound dog and its owner, even if the dog is still clumsy and curious. Still, the warning did its job. The second group warned me that they lived further up the ridge and to watch out for the cougar. Now, I've never seen a cougar in the wild. I've gone backwoods camping in Maine, the Adirondacks, North Carolina, Indiana, Minnesota, Oregon, Washington state, and Alaska and I have never seen or heard a cougar. Yet there are cougars around here and in every state where I've ever camped. I'm not exactly sure what I would do if I encountered a cougar. I've been told you need to face them down and back away trying to look big. Well then. I'm not sure what I would do.
With a black bear, I'd sure be excited and a little scared, but I'd bang pots, clap my hands, and yell. I wouldn't approach a bear with food or cubs or an injury. Well, I wouldn't approach a black bear at all, but I have been known to move toward our bear bag that wasn't hung very well with a pot and lid in my hands, banging. Granted, there were four or five of us doing the same thing and the bear ambled reluctantly past our tents, back across the river, and out of sight. Black bear don't want to have to work that hard for their food. I know black bear fairly well. I don't feel as confident about grizzly, but the only place I ever camped with grizzly in the woods was Alaska and that's another story entirely, one for another day.
So that night, as the full moon shone through a gap in the clouds, Teddy and I walked cautiously back along the trail. Well, I walked cautiously, setting my walking stick a little more firmly on the ground. I watched Teddy for any sign of caution. He may be a puppy, but I've seen his hair go up for one reason or another. I thought about how I felt about this cougar and I realized one thing. I'm not really afraid of cougar, being fifty-one years old and never having encountered one. I am most worried about one predator over all the others, man. That lone man on the trail was what I was looking out for as we headed back to our car. Years ago, there was a park I used to visit after work, but when the same stealthy guy just happened to appear for the third time in a row, I stopped going there altogether.
Today at the market, I saw a woman with her hood pulled up over stringy hair. She had open sores on her face, was gaunt, hunched over, and had a look on her face that I recognized but never became familiar with. The hair on the back of my neck rose. I finished my shopping and left quickly. Unfortunately, our town has a meth problem. Most of the time, my daytime activities don't have me crossing paths with the darker, more unpredictable element of town. Today, I was probably in more danger than I would ever be in my back yard in my pajamas with a fluffy little meat snack at the end of a short cord, coyotes howling all around us.
Thank you for listening, jb
Last night, I woke to a long, loud cry, a sound that seemed to be coming from inside the house. In my confusion, I went upstairs, thinking that Nick might still be feeling sick and that the noise came from him. He was sound asleep. As I crawled back into my bed, I heard the sound again, a coyote howling, this time a little further from my window. Hopefully, my coyotes were thinning the rodent population around my house last night. I've never seen my coyotes. They come late at night, romp across the back deck, never pausing, singing in the night. Their cry is more eerie than a loon's, ranging from a dog's howl to a woman laughing in the dark. I love the sound of their voices, but it raises the hair on the back of my neck. I don't stand outside when I hear them howling so closely. I love to look into the cats' eyes when we hear that wild sound together.
I wondered what they thought of the new smells, of Teddy and his his yellow snow. Can a canine smell age in the marks that are left behind? I'm sure they can smell the richness of the food offered to our little guy. Can they tell how brave a dog is, or how tired, or how healthy? Dogs can smell cancer. Are the other things apparent as well? I'm sure they can smell that this dog is always accompanied by a human. I hope my human smell will help to protect us since we walk, sometimes, at dusk. In my mind, dusk is a hunting time, but I've never heard coyotes howl before 11 pm. Maybe it's because I understand black bear better than coyote. Black bear, in all the camping I've ever done, have always come foraging for food at dawn or at dusk.
The other day, it was deep dusk when Teddy and I walked our familiar trail up by Lake Alice. We met two groups of people we knew from school and from church. We stood and talked while the kids played with the puppy. As each group departed, someone always said to watch out. One said to watch out for the coyotes. I doubt that coyotes would mess with a thirty pound dog and its owner, even if the dog is still clumsy and curious. Still, the warning did its job. The second group warned me that they lived further up the ridge and to watch out for the cougar. Now, I've never seen a cougar in the wild. I've gone backwoods camping in Maine, the Adirondacks, North Carolina, Indiana, Minnesota, Oregon, Washington state, and Alaska and I have never seen or heard a cougar. Yet there are cougars around here and in every state where I've ever camped. I'm not exactly sure what I would do if I encountered a cougar. I've been told you need to face them down and back away trying to look big. Well then. I'm not sure what I would do.
With a black bear, I'd sure be excited and a little scared, but I'd bang pots, clap my hands, and yell. I wouldn't approach a bear with food or cubs or an injury. Well, I wouldn't approach a black bear at all, but I have been known to move toward our bear bag that wasn't hung very well with a pot and lid in my hands, banging. Granted, there were four or five of us doing the same thing and the bear ambled reluctantly past our tents, back across the river, and out of sight. Black bear don't want to have to work that hard for their food. I know black bear fairly well. I don't feel as confident about grizzly, but the only place I ever camped with grizzly in the woods was Alaska and that's another story entirely, one for another day.
So that night, as the full moon shone through a gap in the clouds, Teddy and I walked cautiously back along the trail. Well, I walked cautiously, setting my walking stick a little more firmly on the ground. I watched Teddy for any sign of caution. He may be a puppy, but I've seen his hair go up for one reason or another. I thought about how I felt about this cougar and I realized one thing. I'm not really afraid of cougar, being fifty-one years old and never having encountered one. I am most worried about one predator over all the others, man. That lone man on the trail was what I was looking out for as we headed back to our car. Years ago, there was a park I used to visit after work, but when the same stealthy guy just happened to appear for the third time in a row, I stopped going there altogether.
Today at the market, I saw a woman with her hood pulled up over stringy hair. She had open sores on her face, was gaunt, hunched over, and had a look on her face that I recognized but never became familiar with. The hair on the back of my neck rose. I finished my shopping and left quickly. Unfortunately, our town has a meth problem. Most of the time, my daytime activities don't have me crossing paths with the darker, more unpredictable element of town. Today, I was probably in more danger than I would ever be in my back yard in my pajamas with a fluffy little meat snack at the end of a short cord, coyotes howling all around us.
Thank you for listening, jb
No comments:
Post a Comment