Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Fire Engines?


I was dragging garbage down to the dumpster, when I heard sirens coming from the direction of Brookfield. I thought, wow, a fire at night, how awful, and imagined the volunteers piling into the fire engines, etc. Then I turned toward the dark hill and saw the White Boys barking into the night and realized the fire engines were strangely overlapping and repetitive. They were coyotes not fire engines!
I ran up the lane to the barn, through the milk room, into the apartment and got the dogs and my staff and ran up the hill to get the sheep in. As luck would have it they were scattered everywhere. I had on my miner's light and could see sheep eyes glowing high up on the hill. Thor, who thinks he is my own personal body guard, was right beside me with the inside dogs running wildly around everywhere. I thought about letting Finn and Knut go, but I knew the coyotes would not come too close with me and the other dogs out there, and I didn't want them chasing the coyote pack all the way to Brookfield. After a lot of running around and yelling to Izzy, "get 'em up, get 'em up, Izzy!" all the sheep (I hope) were collected and run into the barnyard. I shooed Chris and Breeze in there with them. Coyotes will jump the fence and go into the barn to kill animals, day or night. This way they would meet a deadly surprise in the form of llama legs stomping on them. The pack moved across the road and down to the creek. I have no problem with coyotes as long as they stay away from my sheep. I confess their eerie siren singing gives me a thrill. When I first moved in here I had a high powered flashlight. I shined it on the ridge and saw a long line of eyes glowing - the resident coyote pack checking out the new arrivals. My shepherd friend in Bainbridge had a coyote jump into the barnyard and grab a sheep by the throat. She ran toward it with her staff and scared the coyote so much it let go of the poor sheep, who now had an open throat. Lisa's mother sewed up the sheep's neck and it lived to tell the tale. When the little trailer was up on the hill I was awakened one night last summer by the same thought, oh, no, a fire in Brookfield. It's been long enough that I was fooled again.

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