This past weekend I headed home to be around Des Moines for Mother's Day as well as to be able to spend time in the turkey woods. Most of my hunting experiences seem to find me freezing my butt off in the cold in December and January and so a late season turkey hunt where everything is green and I do not have to wear 12 layers to stay warm is certainly appealing. The other part about turkey hunting that I love is the fact that the birds are responsive. I am actively communicating with these animals and trying to convince them to come to me, not simply sit somewhere and pray that one wanders by. Finally, there is just so much going on during spring. There is life everywhere! The diversity of birds this time of year is stunning in comparison to the winter months. Just being present in Creation is simply enough to satisfy my need to escape the cruel grip of a semester that is winding down with essays and tests. This spring I will be eating tag soup, I am going a second straight year without harvesting a turkey but feel like I have walked away with a much greater knowledge about these surprisingly wary birds. The part that I want to share, if for no other reason than to be able to remember the details years from now, was an encounter that I had with a coyote.
Saturday morning, my second day of getting up at 3:30, had ended in seeing a couple turkeys but not a tom close enough to get a shot at. I had heard plenty of gobbles and knew that there were still birds in the area. I started making my way along the timber towards the car, sitting down every once in a while to make a series of yelps and clucks hoping to entice a longbeard into range. I decided right before heading to my vehicle to leave my bag, decoys and most of my calls and dip down towards the creek to try one last desperate attempt at locating a bird. Without luck after half an hour I decided I would make one last call. Right after I heard a couple leaves stir to my left. Standing 10 yards away was a coyote looking around curiously for the origin of the sounds. He did not appear to be set on killing rather he was using all of his senses to assess the scene. At this point my shotgun was laid across my lap and pointed right at him but I had no chance of moving without being seen After 30 seconds or so without much happening I slowly reached for my call. This movement got his attention and he watched my camouflaged hand as I slowly started making some turkey calls. Then we locked eyes.
I have grown up thinking that coyotes should be killed whenever given the chance because of the harm they are capable of doing to game species particularly fawns, pheasants and turkeys. I have yet to shoot a coyote probably because I have such deep love for canines in general but I am certainly not against predator hunting. Since being at school I have learned about and done some review of published literature regarding the killing of predators to protect other species and have found evidence that sometimes contradicts the rumors that I have heard in the hunting community. It is not always the case that killing one predator will result in having more game on the landscape, it really comes down to location and the predator-prey relationships found in that area. Now, if a strict predator removal plan is in place, it will more than likely have a significant effect. This coyote did not appear threatening to me, probably because I know that coyotes innately fear humans. He reminded me of my dog looking around, tongue hanging out and I specifically remember he had the most beautiful coat. This animal was a created being that was put here to serve an ecological purpose, what reason did I have to interfere in that, just for the sake of killing. I would not have used the meat, maybe I would have done something with the pelt but not much else.
After I made those soft calls, the dog still not knowing that I was indeed a human (thanks to my head-to-toe camo) started to work his way to me. When he was about 5 yards away from me, he dropped his haunches and began to stalk me. The way he got low to the ground, putting one foot carefully in front of the other reminded me of a lion ready to pounce on an antelope. If I did not do something soon I knew that this coyote would be on me in moments! I went from admiring this magnificent individual to playing out in my head what would happen next. Remember, the barrel of my gun was pointed directly in the coyote's direction and I pictured the exact motions it would take to get the gun from its current position to my shoulder, ready to fire. As this coyote continued to close the distance I slowly reached for the gun, I could not wait another second.
The moment I did this it must have triggered a predatory instinct because it suddenly pounced and raced towards me. In one swift, fluid motion I grabbed the gun, slid the safety off as I shouldered it and was milliseconds from squeezing the trigger when the coyote realized something was not right. He wheeled around, ran back a little ways and stood broadside. I held the bead of the shotgun on him for a while until I was convinced he would not attack again. We stayed like this for at least a minute, two pairs of predatory eyes glued on one another, attempting to decipher what had just occurred,
what was still yet to happen. After a while, he took off and I was left sitting there with a gun and a turkey call. I did not have my camera, my phone, I could not share this experience with anyone, I had no proof of its occurrence.
In hindsight I am convinced that this was a blessing. I have become so convinced that I must document these incredible moments to share with my family, with friends, with social media hoping to get some sort of reward out of it. Without the pressures of trying to document the moment I was able to fully immerse myself in the encounter with this creature and left with an incredible appreciation for what I had just witnessed. Moments like these will be what I remember years from now, not my sharing of pictures or stories but the actual experiences that define my view on the natural world. Many times I had the opportunity to shoot that coyote, and as I said before I take no issue with the killing of this species. They are certainly in no danger of extirpation or extinction. I would not have hesitated if the coyote had come even a foot closer while charging, and I would never apologize for self-defense in a situation such as that. I think the reason that I refrained from pulling that trigger was that I hesitate in playing along with this idea that man must dominate nature. I firmly believe that nature is here for us to use for our own benefit and my daily practices would most certainly show that, however I do not want to be someone who takes life for the simple sake of taking life. I hope this is a view that follows me in my future endeavors throughout my life in the outdoors.
