By John Jefferson
Some people call them “varmints;” others say “predators.” A wise man once said that if the world were to end tomorrow, the only things left would be a coyote sitting under a mesquite tree. I might add, “mosquitoes and cockroaches.”
Coyotes are THE MOST adaptable critter. They’ve survived for eons despite removal efforts like steel traps, poisons, and the inevitable advance of civilization. They live at the edge of many towns. A love-hate relationship has developed for them.
They rid neighborhoods of domestic cats, eat fawns, and haze calves and kid goats. They’re opportunistic killer/feeders. But some folks savor hearing their vocalizations at days’ end. I’m in that bunch. J. Frank Dobie called coyotes “Song Dogs.”
Horace Gore, former Big Game Leader at TPWD, once told me he wouldn’t join a deer lease on a ranch that practiced total elimination of predators.
They serve the purpose of pruning weak and sickly animals.
A ranch I leased ran cattle and goats. During calving time one evening, I shot at a coyote hanging around the newborns at dusk. Firing an un-scoped Ruger 10/22 at a coyote over a hundred yards away, I rolled it — but it ran off. The landowner had choice words for my non-lethal shot.
Varmint hunting can improve accuracy and make you a better hunter. It’s fun but challenging! Modern equipment like the Burnham Brothers electronic callers makes it easier. The coyote in the photo came to a
Burnham call hidden in the weeds.
One morning on the Chaparral Wildlife Management Area after rain, I called unsuccessfully for several hours. As I packed to leave, my caller was still on, but silent, hidden in the brush, I turned the volume to Maximum hoping to see something on the way to my truck, and reached for the Play button. At that instant, a coyote strolled by looking for the wounded rabbit it had heard.
From three feet away, the hidden speaker screeched like the world’s largest, injured rabbit. The coyote jumped SIDEWISE several feet and hit the red sand running!
Another time in a ground blind on the Zachry Ranch, I dozed off after using the camera’s last frame of film. I woke up seeing a bobcat nearby looking at me. Needing to remove the exposed film and replace it, I flipped on the automatic rewind. The “whirring” sound excited the cat, and it charged right at me! My rifle wasn’t close enough and my camera needed film. All I could do was wave both hands and YELL! The cat stopped short, turned, and ran. I jammed in fresh film, but my one shaky image was a blur. Dangit!
Hunting seasons are over, but critter calling is prime right now!
And that brings me up to date. This is the 400th week I’ve written this column. Thanks to all who have subscribed. I’m honored my work appears in your newspapers. It makes me feel like part of your community. I respect what your journalism does for your readers.
JJ
