MotorSeven
Elite Member
She sure is beautifull!
Found a coyote, I think
- Thread starter Raspy
- Start date
She sure is beautifull!
sdkubota
Platinum Member
Coyotes just ate my cat...I will get even.
RandyBell
Silver Member
She sure is beautifull!
I second that MotorSeven:thumbsup:
OP
Raspy
Veteran Member
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2006
- Messages
- 1,655
- Location
- Smith Valley, Nevada
- Tractor
- NH TC29DA, F250 Tremor, Jeep Rubicon
It's a lot of fun to hear from all of you and I appreciate sharing this whole story. I hope I haven't overplayed the sad side as we explore the whole story with all of it's chapters and all of its joy.
Look at Sandy in the attached pix at one month old. You can tell from her eyes that she cannot see yet. What a difference from the latest pictures as she reaches maturity!
As I woke up this morning, at first light, I began wondering what the scene was at Southwest Wildlife. It's been more than a month now, but I remember the trip down there well.
When we arrived there, after a 12 hour drive, it was 4:30 in the morning. I was beat. So I climbed into the back of the truck and took a snooze. It was night and dark, but not cold because of the monsoon weather. Warm and humid. Gray skies and sprinkling rain in the desert.
Sandy was restless, so I tied her to the side of the truck when we arrived. She had been patient on a cramped trip and I let her out on a long leash.
As I laid there, drifting in and out, considering the trip and Sandy's future, first light began to emerge. A Mexican Grey Wolf, who, as it turns out, is a real instigator, began to howl in a very deep tone. A long guttural note broke the desert silence with a rudeness powerful enough to make me open my eyes and short circuit a dream! Except for one, the animals were silent and minding their own business. But soon they all joined in, one by one, until there was a cacophony of wild response! Us, outside the gate listening, and vocal mayhem inside. They all hear each other and know each other. They all know the game. They are a community of friends and neighbors. They have a conversation. Routine rules the course of events.
During the event, Sandy's ears perked up and the leash reached it's limit. I smiled and began to think we were in the right place. Satisfied and open expression ruled. Lots of powerful animals expressed themselves without reservation. They soon would meet a new friend. Sandy's next chapter was beginning.
Then, as things calmed down and I was about to drift off again, hoping I would not be disturbed, a neighbor approached on her morning walk with her dog. I heard them coming our way. She stopped and didn't want to pass our truck on the narrow road. As I listened she commented to someone else that she could not get by. "What's wrong?" came from a neighbor. "There's a coyote tied up to the side of that truck" she replied. I laughed and struggled to wake up. "Come on by, it's OK", I encouraged. But no way. She was not going to get near that wild thing!
Earlier, Bei Bei and Sandy had dealt with dog politics concerning the only available space in the truck. The console bed. The limited room in a standard cab pickup prompted conflict. Two dogs needing space. Bei Bei sprawled out and basked in the warm night with her pack mates, oblivious to other's needs, as we sped along. Sandy stood, drifted off to sleep, leaning on Liye until her legs tired and she needed to lay down. Hours passed. Not a bit of room left. Patient and interested in the event, trying not to impose on Bei Bei, but failing through exhaustion, Sandy gradually crept into Bei Bei's space as she slumped. Time went on. Eyes drooped. Poor Sandy. Headlights approached and tail lights waned. Then, finally, the intrusion reached it's limit as we sped along in the darkness. Me in a trance. The endless desert. The unchanging night.
BARK!!! SNAP!! Grrrrrrr!!!. Bei Bei jumped to life and reclaimed the space. Up from the dead! I, also reawakened, and probably swerving around in reflexive response, yelled at her to "stop it". Then, with dominance re-established, peace was restored for another two hours or so. Peace returned and sleepy eyes began to re-droop. I searched for tunes on the radio as the endless night persisted. The radio reaching across the vast distance for a voice in the night.
Finally, a sign loomed up. "Las Vegas, 115 miles".
Nevada is an open space. Vast valleys that lead to others of the same design. Black nights. The road threads along endlessly. We were near the half way mark now, and a glow persisted in the southern sky. A glow from a hundred miles away. The night sky usually dominated by the Milky Way, contaminated now by the incredible incandescence of Vegas. Hoover Dam struggling to keep up with the load as the mighty Colorado River poured down the penstocks and forced the turbines! But it too was only a landmark we needed to pass as we marched on toward our goal. Sandy on an adventure she couldn't imagine. Me pondering the sound of a working Cummins. Liye slumped over in an uncomfortable sleep. A whistle from the wind intruding into the cab. The dash lights revealing if anyone was awake besides me. I squirmed a bit and found a new place to grip the wheel. More miles slipped by.
That night was an interesting one. I've found that zoning out and deciding in advance that the trip will be long, is a good method of waiting it out. Soon I'm too busy doing nothing to do something productive. I'm racing the clock with nothing to show for it. The method has worked well in my travels to the other side of the planet, too. I take newspapers and books, but find I've arrived without time to read them. Whenever I see something upside down now, I wonder if it might be better suited on the other side of the planet than simply flipped over to it's right side, here.
When the woman came in the morning and opened up the gate, we entered and went to the office/kitchen/quarantine area. Sandy was in the truck. They showed us around a bit and located a carrier for us to put her in. I leashed her and walked her in. Cautious, she balked a bit and didn't want to be forced. Typical. Patience convinced her to move ahead. As we moved I talked to her and petted her, but she knew something was up. Eventually, she came to the carrier and we coaxed her in. A treat seemed less important to her than before.
All of the time with her and all of the tension surrounding her was coming to a head. I was tired. She walked into the carrier and I shut the metal grid door. As the door slammed, at that very instant, a sense of peace poured over me. The danger was gone. The task was complete. She was safe. We were done. It's hard to describe the immediate relief, even though our friend was behind bars and about to be left behind. We left feeling dazed and empty. Liye cried at the slightest mention of her. For weeks I was unable to tell her story without pause to get my voice back. But we cherish the experience and the joy it brought.
We dropped Sandy off. We spent some time bidding her fair well and decided to head back. Another marathon run and the deed was done. Relief and endless conversation about what a remarkable time it was has been fun. It brings a smile to my face. A brief moment with a random animal from the wild. An experience that could have been had with any one of millions. A remarkable friendship. Maybe so unusual because we simply don't allow it to happen.
Look at Sandy in the attached pix at one month old. You can tell from her eyes that she cannot see yet. What a difference from the latest pictures as she reaches maturity!
As I woke up this morning, at first light, I began wondering what the scene was at Southwest Wildlife. It's been more than a month now, but I remember the trip down there well.
When we arrived there, after a 12 hour drive, it was 4:30 in the morning. I was beat. So I climbed into the back of the truck and took a snooze. It was night and dark, but not cold because of the monsoon weather. Warm and humid. Gray skies and sprinkling rain in the desert.
Sandy was restless, so I tied her to the side of the truck when we arrived. She had been patient on a cramped trip and I let her out on a long leash.
As I laid there, drifting in and out, considering the trip and Sandy's future, first light began to emerge. A Mexican Grey Wolf, who, as it turns out, is a real instigator, began to howl in a very deep tone. A long guttural note broke the desert silence with a rudeness powerful enough to make me open my eyes and short circuit a dream! Except for one, the animals were silent and minding their own business. But soon they all joined in, one by one, until there was a cacophony of wild response! Us, outside the gate listening, and vocal mayhem inside. They all hear each other and know each other. They all know the game. They are a community of friends and neighbors. They have a conversation. Routine rules the course of events.
During the event, Sandy's ears perked up and the leash reached it's limit. I smiled and began to think we were in the right place. Satisfied and open expression ruled. Lots of powerful animals expressed themselves without reservation. They soon would meet a new friend. Sandy's next chapter was beginning.
Then, as things calmed down and I was about to drift off again, hoping I would not be disturbed, a neighbor approached on her morning walk with her dog. I heard them coming our way. She stopped and didn't want to pass our truck on the narrow road. As I listened she commented to someone else that she could not get by. "What's wrong?" came from a neighbor. "There's a coyote tied up to the side of that truck" she replied. I laughed and struggled to wake up. "Come on by, it's OK", I encouraged. But no way. She was not going to get near that wild thing!
Earlier, Bei Bei and Sandy had dealt with dog politics concerning the only available space in the truck. The console bed. The limited room in a standard cab pickup prompted conflict. Two dogs needing space. Bei Bei sprawled out and basked in the warm night with her pack mates, oblivious to other's needs, as we sped along. Sandy stood, drifted off to sleep, leaning on Liye until her legs tired and she needed to lay down. Hours passed. Not a bit of room left. Patient and interested in the event, trying not to impose on Bei Bei, but failing through exhaustion, Sandy gradually crept into Bei Bei's space as she slumped. Time went on. Eyes drooped. Poor Sandy. Headlights approached and tail lights waned. Then, finally, the intrusion reached it's limit as we sped along in the darkness. Me in a trance. The endless desert. The unchanging night.
BARK!!! SNAP!! Grrrrrrr!!!. Bei Bei jumped to life and reclaimed the space. Up from the dead! I, also reawakened, and probably swerving around in reflexive response, yelled at her to "stop it". Then, with dominance re-established, peace was restored for another two hours or so. Peace returned and sleepy eyes began to re-droop. I searched for tunes on the radio as the endless night persisted. The radio reaching across the vast distance for a voice in the night.
Finally, a sign loomed up. "Las Vegas, 115 miles".
Nevada is an open space. Vast valleys that lead to others of the same design. Black nights. The road threads along endlessly. We were near the half way mark now, and a glow persisted in the southern sky. A glow from a hundred miles away. The night sky usually dominated by the Milky Way, contaminated now by the incredible incandescence of Vegas. Hoover Dam struggling to keep up with the load as the mighty Colorado River poured down the penstocks and forced the turbines! But it too was only a landmark we needed to pass as we marched on toward our goal. Sandy on an adventure she couldn't imagine. Me pondering the sound of a working Cummins. Liye slumped over in an uncomfortable sleep. A whistle from the wind intruding into the cab. The dash lights revealing if anyone was awake besides me. I squirmed a bit and found a new place to grip the wheel. More miles slipped by.
That night was an interesting one. I've found that zoning out and deciding in advance that the trip will be long, is a good method of waiting it out. Soon I'm too busy doing nothing to do something productive. I'm racing the clock with nothing to show for it. The method has worked well in my travels to the other side of the planet, too. I take newspapers and books, but find I've arrived without time to read them. Whenever I see something upside down now, I wonder if it might be better suited on the other side of the planet than simply flipped over to it's right side, here.
When the woman came in the morning and opened up the gate, we entered and went to the office/kitchen/quarantine area. Sandy was in the truck. They showed us around a bit and located a carrier for us to put her in. I leashed her and walked her in. Cautious, she balked a bit and didn't want to be forced. Typical. Patience convinced her to move ahead. As we moved I talked to her and petted her, but she knew something was up. Eventually, she came to the carrier and we coaxed her in. A treat seemed less important to her than before.
All of the time with her and all of the tension surrounding her was coming to a head. I was tired. She walked into the carrier and I shut the metal grid door. As the door slammed, at that very instant, a sense of peace poured over me. The danger was gone. The task was complete. She was safe. We were done. It's hard to describe the immediate relief, even though our friend was behind bars and about to be left behind. We left feeling dazed and empty. Liye cried at the slightest mention of her. For weeks I was unable to tell her story without pause to get my voice back. But we cherish the experience and the joy it brought.
We dropped Sandy off. We spent some time bidding her fair well and decided to head back. Another marathon run and the deed was done. Relief and endless conversation about what a remarkable time it was has been fun. It brings a smile to my face. A brief moment with a random animal from the wild. An experience that could have been had with any one of millions. A remarkable friendship. Maybe so unusual because we simply don't allow it to happen.
Attachments
Alien
Elite Member
Best story I have read in a long time mate. Congratulations. It must have been a tough ride home.
Davinator
Silver Member
Oops. Double post.
Davinator
Silver Member
I only recently found this thread and read every word of it, over several settings. It was like reading a good novel and had it all: drama, intrigue, suspense and emotional highs and lows. While I, like some feared the worst, I always hoped for the best, and continue to do so for Sandy. I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried like a baby when reaching the final posts, possibly as a result of loosing by best buddy in the whole world, Barley the Beagle back in the spring.
Raspy, please keep us updated and best of luck in your future endeavors!
Raspy, please keep us updated and best of luck in your future endeavors!
OP
Raspy
Veteran Member
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2006
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- Smith Valley, Nevada
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Davinator,
I really enjoyed your post. It's no wonder dogs are recognized as "man's best friend". Their ability to work with us, play with us and be such good companions is just wonderful.
It's so important to treat them well. Important for them and us.
You've obviously been touched by their marvelous nature too.
I really enjoyed your post. It's no wonder dogs are recognized as "man's best friend". Their ability to work with us, play with us and be such good companions is just wonderful.
It's so important to treat them well. Important for them and us.
You've obviously been touched by their marvelous nature too.
OP
Raspy
Veteran Member
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2006
- Messages
- 1,655
- Location
- Smith Valley, Nevada
- Tractor
- NH TC29DA, F250 Tremor, Jeep Rubicon
Here are a couple of letters that can serve as an update on Sandy. These came from Southwest Wildlife as they are getting her settled and getting to know her. This is a big transition and I know they truly have her best interests in mind. Being strong willed, instinctual and, until now, free to roam, she has some adjusting to do, but as I've observed, she is a survivor. With a very compassionate staff, a well designed enclosure, some interesting training and stimulating toys, she'll do fine. We all want her to.
Sandy does seem to bring out the best in people. How can anyone resist her?
Here's one:
Hi John. Oddly, I feel like I know you already. I’ve read your series of posts about Sandy growing up and the choices you made. I’m so glad that she has this history and story so that we can help her to be happy at Southwest Wildlife. They all have their stories, but some we just don’t get to know. Thank you for sharing it so well.
Southwest Wildlife hooked me the first day I set eyes on it and I’ve been volunteering there for 7 years now. My real interest is in enrichment so that we can improve the lives of these captive wild creatures.
As you know, Sandy has gone to an outdoor enclosure – thank goodness. She wasn’t happy in the clinic – and who could blame her? Her outdoor enclosure isn’t huge, but it’s okay for now. Kim Carr and I will lobby for the best enclosure we can get, as we are able to move animals around. We added a couple of houses and she has lots of toys to play with. Still, as you already know, she’s scary smart and needed much more to do and think about.
This past year, I attended two dog behavior workshops at Best Friends in Kanab, Utah. They’re a great sanctuary for domestic animals and train with positive reinforcement. My dogs are incorrigible, so I’m not sure why I felt so compelled to go to the workshops, but perhaps now I know why. I got to thinking perhaps some training would give Sandy something to do with all that intelligence, and keep her more mentally stable and healthy. We learned clicker training at our first session, and it was nothing like I thought it would be. Animals completely understand what you’re telling them, simply by marking what you want with the click, followed with a reward. They are basically teaching themselves how to receive the reward you’re offering. It’s fascinating to watch. I am an amateur, but gave it a shot with Miss Sandy.
We had two training sessions, about 15 minutes each, a couple of days ago. About 5 minutes into the first session (having never seen/heard a clicker) she’d figured out if she stepped into the bottom of a crate she received a click and a piece of hot dog. She had been very afraid of the crate in the clinic, so I wanted to work on that and make it a great place to be. She’ll occasionally have to be crated and I don’t want to stress her out. I started with just the bottom and will work my way up to the entire crate, with wire door and eventually get her inside, relaxed and the door closed. It’ll take some time, but she and I both have that. There was no nipping, no excitement and we ended our time together with her allowing me to brush her for a while. It’s a start and she seemed to enjoy it. Information from the workshop tells me that mental work is even more tiring than physical activity for canines, and later when I stopped by to see her, she was busy napping.
I’ll see her again twice this week, so we’ll have a chance to work on the clicker a little more. I’ve gotten her a couple of puzzle toys, like the Kong Wobbler, so she’ll have to work to get some kibble out of the toy to eat it. That’ll keep her busy too, I hope.
Other plans: the enclosure she’s in has wire beneath the dirt, so she can’t dig a good den there. I’m going to get the guys to bring in some more dirt and make a good pile that she can modify for a den. We’ll see how that goes.
Hope you all are well and not too worried about Sandy. I know this isn’t the quality of life you’d prefer for her, but she’ll be safe and she’ll have people who care about her here.
Here's another:
I spent some time with Sandy yesterday when I was out at Southwest. We had another couple of clicker sessions and I had to laugh. She knew precisely what I wanted when she smelled the hot dogs and saw the pouch I keep them in. I don’t think she particularly craves hot dogs, but she’ll certainly accept one when offered. She’s comfortable with me, but initially nervous around other people or groups of people. I spent a little time just sitting with her in the morning and invited another volunteer to sit with me. She offered Sandy the occasional small hot dog treat as well and that went very well. She also enjoyed her Kong Wobbler treat dispenser.
The adjustment from your place to confinement has to be a tough one. She had choices at your place and could choose to simply not interact or be nearby when she didn’t want to. Being confined she doesn’t have the choice to avoid people coming in to clean and various people walking around, like tours. Gradually, over time I hope she can meet a variety of volunteers and have a good experience with them. As some of our coyotes mature they become territorial about their enclosures and will tolerate only certain people. She’s at an age when all the new experiences can trigger fears, so I hope to make good experiences for her so any fears won’t take hold. Hope she can maintain her friendly demeanor and that most people will be a good experience for her. Still, we’re only talking about staff and some volunteers who will have contact with her at this point. It might be too overwhelming for her to be forced to meet a whole bunch of people while confined to a leash in this new place and without familiar people – yet. We’ll take it slow.
As to Herbert. He’s an oddball. He came to SW 5 or 6 years ago because someone thought he was a wolf hybrid. He had a terrible heart murmur and lots of other physical flaws, like an under bite, crooked legs and too many toes. The vet who brought him out thought that he had about 6 months to live because of his heart. Well, all these years later, he’s still here. He’s never been neutered because they were afraid to put him under due to his heart problems. So, while he and Sandy do well together, he won’t go outside to live with her. He’s on meds everyday and just stays around the clinic. We hope to find her the perfect roommate. We just have to be patient.
I’ll be out there again this evening. There is a Full Moon Tour tonight – it’s something new they’re trying – a nighttime tour. Should be a lot of coyote yipping and wolf howling tonight.
Sandy does seem to bring out the best in people. How can anyone resist her?
Here's one:
Hi John. Oddly, I feel like I know you already. I’ve read your series of posts about Sandy growing up and the choices you made. I’m so glad that she has this history and story so that we can help her to be happy at Southwest Wildlife. They all have their stories, but some we just don’t get to know. Thank you for sharing it so well.
Southwest Wildlife hooked me the first day I set eyes on it and I’ve been volunteering there for 7 years now. My real interest is in enrichment so that we can improve the lives of these captive wild creatures.
As you know, Sandy has gone to an outdoor enclosure – thank goodness. She wasn’t happy in the clinic – and who could blame her? Her outdoor enclosure isn’t huge, but it’s okay for now. Kim Carr and I will lobby for the best enclosure we can get, as we are able to move animals around. We added a couple of houses and she has lots of toys to play with. Still, as you already know, she’s scary smart and needed much more to do and think about.
This past year, I attended two dog behavior workshops at Best Friends in Kanab, Utah. They’re a great sanctuary for domestic animals and train with positive reinforcement. My dogs are incorrigible, so I’m not sure why I felt so compelled to go to the workshops, but perhaps now I know why. I got to thinking perhaps some training would give Sandy something to do with all that intelligence, and keep her more mentally stable and healthy. We learned clicker training at our first session, and it was nothing like I thought it would be. Animals completely understand what you’re telling them, simply by marking what you want with the click, followed with a reward. They are basically teaching themselves how to receive the reward you’re offering. It’s fascinating to watch. I am an amateur, but gave it a shot with Miss Sandy.
We had two training sessions, about 15 minutes each, a couple of days ago. About 5 minutes into the first session (having never seen/heard a clicker) she’d figured out if she stepped into the bottom of a crate she received a click and a piece of hot dog. She had been very afraid of the crate in the clinic, so I wanted to work on that and make it a great place to be. She’ll occasionally have to be crated and I don’t want to stress her out. I started with just the bottom and will work my way up to the entire crate, with wire door and eventually get her inside, relaxed and the door closed. It’ll take some time, but she and I both have that. There was no nipping, no excitement and we ended our time together with her allowing me to brush her for a while. It’s a start and she seemed to enjoy it. Information from the workshop tells me that mental work is even more tiring than physical activity for canines, and later when I stopped by to see her, she was busy napping.
I’ll see her again twice this week, so we’ll have a chance to work on the clicker a little more. I’ve gotten her a couple of puzzle toys, like the Kong Wobbler, so she’ll have to work to get some kibble out of the toy to eat it. That’ll keep her busy too, I hope.
Other plans: the enclosure she’s in has wire beneath the dirt, so she can’t dig a good den there. I’m going to get the guys to bring in some more dirt and make a good pile that she can modify for a den. We’ll see how that goes.
Hope you all are well and not too worried about Sandy. I know this isn’t the quality of life you’d prefer for her, but she’ll be safe and she’ll have people who care about her here.
Here's another:
I spent some time with Sandy yesterday when I was out at Southwest. We had another couple of clicker sessions and I had to laugh. She knew precisely what I wanted when she smelled the hot dogs and saw the pouch I keep them in. I don’t think she particularly craves hot dogs, but she’ll certainly accept one when offered. She’s comfortable with me, but initially nervous around other people or groups of people. I spent a little time just sitting with her in the morning and invited another volunteer to sit with me. She offered Sandy the occasional small hot dog treat as well and that went very well. She also enjoyed her Kong Wobbler treat dispenser.
The adjustment from your place to confinement has to be a tough one. She had choices at your place and could choose to simply not interact or be nearby when she didn’t want to. Being confined she doesn’t have the choice to avoid people coming in to clean and various people walking around, like tours. Gradually, over time I hope she can meet a variety of volunteers and have a good experience with them. As some of our coyotes mature they become territorial about their enclosures and will tolerate only certain people. She’s at an age when all the new experiences can trigger fears, so I hope to make good experiences for her so any fears won’t take hold. Hope she can maintain her friendly demeanor and that most people will be a good experience for her. Still, we’re only talking about staff and some volunteers who will have contact with her at this point. It might be too overwhelming for her to be forced to meet a whole bunch of people while confined to a leash in this new place and without familiar people – yet. We’ll take it slow.
As to Herbert. He’s an oddball. He came to SW 5 or 6 years ago because someone thought he was a wolf hybrid. He had a terrible heart murmur and lots of other physical flaws, like an under bite, crooked legs and too many toes. The vet who brought him out thought that he had about 6 months to live because of his heart. Well, all these years later, he’s still here. He’s never been neutered because they were afraid to put him under due to his heart problems. So, while he and Sandy do well together, he won’t go outside to live with her. He’s on meds everyday and just stays around the clinic. We hope to find her the perfect roommate. We just have to be patient.
I’ll be out there again this evening. There is a Full Moon Tour tonight – it’s something new they’re trying – a nighttime tour. Should be a lot of coyote yipping and wolf howling tonight.
sdkubota
Platinum Member
Coyotes are vicious, savage beasts. You can try and create a Disney like caricature of them but they wouldn't hesitate to rip the throat out of your grandchildren if given the oppertunity. They are not dogs or even dog like, they are killers plain and simple.
Oh...kumbiya!
Oh...kumbiya!