High Temperature: 82F Low Temperature: 71F Sunrise: 6:33 am Sunset: 8:31 pm Humidity: 73% Wind: se 5 mph Chance of Rain: 60%
As we made our way up the drive past a grouping of bois d'arc to our left, Ike suddenly barreled into the tall grass, barking and growling. Willa was right behind him, racing in and around the trees. She kept checking in with Ike, watching his movements and reactions. Though the two zig-zagged under the trees, apparently what they were seeking was no longer there. Except, it was. A startled yip came from Willa, then her "alert" barking, directed towards a spot within the center of the trees. I went over to see what they'd found as my husband blew the whistle to call off the dogs.
I saw a small, frightened face low in the grass. Pointed ears, two dark button eyes looking at me. It raised itself shakily, reluctantly. Its fur was wet, matted and darkened in spots from the overnight rain. The legs were so small and thin I wondered if it could even carry itself away. It was a tiny coyote pup. No doubt it was the same one that my husband saw a week back, sheltering on the grassy dam of the "new" pond. My instinct was to go to it, but of course it would not understand my intentions. Instead, I watched it slowly walk away from the comfort of the trees. It was clear that the pup had for one reason or another become motherless. If it had had siblings, they too were gone. It was also clear that the pup was starving to death. I wished we hadn't seen it.
On our return, one of the pigeons flew out of the barn and circled it several times before going back in. I wondered aloud if the pair was caring for young, when my husband told me the day before he'd seen an adolescent pigeon on the shelf of the owl nest box. This was sweet news coming after the sadness of the lone coyote pup. One motherless, the other mothered.