It's been a long time since I have updated our story. Almost 5 years to be precise.
I left off with the story of the coyote thief/murderer.
Trigger-warning. Some people that read this might get really mad. Some won't understand the actions taken. I am only sharing with you my experience. This involves death and a graphic picture. Do not continue reading if you don't like hunting.
Shortly after the day I lost the drake I began to see that coyote regularly. He found an easy food source and was happy to exploit it.
As I was walking the girls to the bottom of the driveway to catch their bus for school I saw the beast strolling along up the driveway with no fear, like he owned the land himself. I suppose after the house being empty for so long he didn't worry about humans and the new food source was a gift.
Anyway, I wasn't going to let the coyote "Dine and Dash" again. I told Matt about my sightings. He was very surprised that I was spotting it regularly. His reply was, "I never see it, why doesn't it come out while I'm around? I'll shoot it." It was then that he decided he needed to show me how to use a big gun. Oh boy! I wasn't really excited about it.
Back up a bit. Matt grew up hunting. He enjoys shooting. After researching the legality of "gun shooting" on private land, in our area, he found a perfect spot with a natural berm and made a gun range/shooting area. It's away from our house with no possibility of accidentally shooting anything unwanted. It's a useful area.
He got out a 3-0-6, I don't know how to write that. It's a big gun with a scope. We went down to the range and he told me what to do. I crouch down, look through the scope, aim for an orange target 40' feet away and pull the trigger. Direct hit BUT the gun has such a kick that it throws me backward. I lose my balance. The gun in my hands fly over my head and I twist back on my knees and land on my hands, and gun, in the dirt. "What are you doing?! Why did you do that Angela? You don't put guns in the dirt!" "Um, I didn't mean to do that Matt. I'm sorry. But I hit the target!" The next shot I did standing, legs spread, and I did not fall.
Ok, so now I know how to load, aim, and fire that gun. Matt said I should bring it out with me every morning and have it ready if I see the coyote again. During the week I walk the girls to the bus stop at the bottom of our 1/3 of a mile-long gravel driveway. The gun did not travel with me on those walks. But, I figured if I saw it again on my way back to the house I would run in and get it.
We also decided we should try to let someone else take care of it just in case. I told a couple of people about our problem and they recommended we call a trapper. One of Lexi's high school friend's dad did just that. He came over and set up traps but I was concerned about our dogs. He said they could also get trapped and seriously injured so we had to keep them chained up. Sigh. Not an ideal situation. Who knew how long it would take to catch it. Here is the timeline.
February 6th, 2017 was the day the coyote stole my duck.
February 8th, I saw the coyote strolling along our driveway near the coop.
February 11th, I shot the big gun.
Feburary 13th, I saw that beast again - NO GUN. He got away. The trapper came and set up traps.
Preamble. I am NOT a hunter. I have never intentionally killed anything in my life. I have hit a couple of animals with my car and cried my eyes out for days knowing I had killed them. I did not want to kill the coyote but I needed to protect my livestock. I figured this was part of being the keeper of animals.
February 14th, I had to go into the office. I came back from the bus stop and went into the house to get ready to go to the office. I walked out of the house with my camera bag (I do video work) and work stuff on one shoulder and the big gun on the other. I was not going to risk seeing it again without the gun. As I was putting my equipment into my expedition that was parked in the driveway I saw movement in my peripheral. I turn around to where I see the movement and HOLY CRAP! I see the coyote a dozen yards from the coop 60+ yards from where I was standing, just past the tree-line of our woods.
My nerves went crazy. What do I do? Can I really shot this beautiful animal that is only trying to survive? Can I kill it? I started shaking.
I moved very slowly as I pulled the gun from my shoulder. I placed it into the position Matt taught me. I put my eye to the scope but I cannot see. (Sidenote. I am right-hand/left-eye dominant. This opposing dominance makes it difficult to look through the scope and I am not great at closing my left-eye to look through a scope with my right. It takes some practice.) I open/shut each of my eyes in an attempt to get the coyote positioned in the cross-hairs of the scope and finally get it lined up. UGG! Can I pull this trigger? He is walking slowly. The aim is good, my body tenses, I get ready to squeeze the trigger while trying to keep him in sight and my arms and knees from trembling. I close my eyes and pull the trigger. BOOM! I step back to keep my balance and open my eyes. I see the coyote drop where he stood and I see another coyote take off running. He had a mate. I instantly start balling. Is it dead? Is it in pain? Is it suffering? I don't see any movement from the coyote but I dare not go and look.
I was so upset. I called Matt balling.
Matt: Hi.
Me: I - I k-k-killed it
Matt: What?
"I got it"
"What did you get? The coyote?"
"Yeesss" in a blubber
"You shot it?"
"Yes!" soo sad
"Is it dead?"
"I don't knoooow. I think soooo." crying more intensly.
"Calm down, Angela. Is it moving? Where did you shoot it?"
"In the head, I think."
"In the head? Where did you aim?"
"I aimed for the head. It dropped instantly. I don't think its moving but I haven't gone up to it to look. I'm sooooooo sad. I killed it and it was just hungry." D:
"You aimed for the head? Angela, you are supposed to aim for the chest so you have a better chance of hitting it."
"You didn't tell me that! I aimed for the head and I hit it!"
"Wow!" a few moments of silence as he contemplated my words.
"What do I do now, Matt?"
"Go see if it's dead."
Breath Angela, breath, I tell myself. "OK, but I'm scared. What if it's in pain and not dead?"
"Just go look."
With a lot of hesitation, I start to walk over to the trail where the body of the coyotes was laying. I walk through the trees, in my skirt and slip-on shoes, to see if it is moving. Tears are rolling down my face. I feel so guilty for murdering the beast.
As I approached the animal I see a pool of blood surrounding its head. "It's dead." I sigh.
"I shot it in the head."
"Nice shot, Angela! Send me a picture"
"Fine, I will. I have to go to work now," I say with somber sadness through my sobs. "I don't know what to do with it." I took a picture and sent it to him.
"Just leave it there and we'll call the trapper later. Don't worry about it. I love you."
"Bye."
I hung up and drove to work. It was a dark day.
Later that day I called the trapper and told him what happened. He, too, was surprised. I asked him if he would take the coyote and he agreed to come after he finished his day to retrieve it and the traps. I didn't want to worry about the dogs and the traps and I figured the mate wouldn't be around for a while.
After a lot of contemplation about what I had done, I decided I needed to have that coyote. I asked the trapper if I could come and watch him skin it and pay him to tan the hide. And that is what I did. In honor of the coyote, my first hunt, my first kill, we went to the trapper's house and watched him "take care" of the coyote. It was hard to watch and it smelled really bad but I learned a lot about hunting that night. I learned that hunting is a necessity in this lifestyle we chose to live. Animals die.
It was a perfect shot. It was a quick death. The coyote didn't feel a thing. I hit it where I aimed from over 60 yards away through the trees and slightly downhill. I take solace knowing it didn't suffer.
It was a male. Its mate lived to raise their young. They came back that spring and got "revenge". But that is a story for another day.
That coyote now lives in our house by our front door as a reminder of all of the above. Honestly, I cherish it. I know I can do what it takes to protect what needs protecting.
