Meep-meep!
singing
That coyote is really a crazy guy ....
ack I can't remember the intervening words so let's cut to the chorus
Road Runner, the Coyote's after you! meep-meep
Road Runner, if he catches you, you're through.
Okay, enough with the singin' already.
Reg - send me some A/C and I'll trade it for some, uh, hmm, I dunno, something to be named later.
PS Oy, who knew Boilington had such wildlife (other than rosborne979)?
couple of turkeys ran across the road in front of me t'other day.
Well... that could be just about any day, but these were the ones with feathers.
rosborne979
I saw the first coyote of my life last Saturday night. Coming home from my little neighborhood bar at 1:40 am I stepped out of my car to see a coyote loping down the hill. It glanced at me as it went on down the hill but didn't alter pace. I had heard of coyotes in town (Hull Ma) but that was my first sighting.
Phoo... here I am talking about turkeys out in the sticks, and the Glob has an article that same day about a turkey in Kendall Square...
Several years ago I saw a red fox crossing the road in broad daylight in Chestnut Hill, part of Newton. Right on Dudley Road. And skunks right in Boston -- places like Mission Hill and around Jamaica Pond -- are no oddity. Never saw a coyote here, though, except up in the woods in southern New Hampshire.
Asfor coyotes. They've returned to cape cod and they pretty much had to have come from up north where they'd retreated to decades(?) ago. The theory is, they had to have come by, if not through, Boston to get to the cape. I think they could have easily come through from the west (Quabin resevoir area?) rather than the north.
We've got coyotes in the ravines of downtown Toronto. It doesn't seem a stretch to me that they'd be able to get through Boston, or be in Boston.
We have lots of coyotes in Connecticut. I had heard that they came from the west as that part of the country became overpopulated.
I remember howling with them at my uncle's ranch in Colorado. The first time I did it, they stopped suddenly as if wondering who that coyote could possibly be and where it learned to sing off key. Soon enough they started up again and let me join the chorus.
Funny, that isn't something I'd feel free to do here in CT.
Hardly proper, you know!
ehBeth wrote:We've got coyotes in the ravines of downtown Toronto. It doesn't seem a stretch to me that they'd be able to get through Boston, or be in Boston.
Perhaps they take Amtrak.
"How many tickets, Mr., um, Coyote?"
"Two - ooooooooooohhhhhh!!!!"
Amtrack, hearty har, har.....
Had a little talk with Racky Raccoon today. There I was, washing our relative few dishes by the hose bib, and she turned and eyed me...and I eyed her back.
It is true, I gave her a few crackers. But, hey, she lives in our walls, and under the building. and has a hard enough time. This whole wildy/city interface is not her fault. She has been under our place for a least a year, and this is only the second time I have succumbed and fed her. So's I could see her face...love that face.
Osso - yeah, I've no beef with the critters around my city block. But, I don't let my cat out either.
ossobuco
Your post made me smile.
Osso -- when I was living in the woods up in New Hampshire, I used to feed the raccoons all the time. One evening, a group of us were sitting around the picnic table out front, under the spreading boughs of the huge hemlock, when there was a slight rustle in the bushes. It was about twilight. We looked over and there was mama racoon with three or four babies. She pushed the babies out in front of her, her eyes on the pweople the whole time. Then she gathered them up in a herd and led them back into the bush.
She was pointing us out to her offspring, as if to say, "See those people? They're ok. They're safe. They feed us. Watch out for the other two-legged bastards I told you about, though."
I was touched beyond words.
Oh, Andrew, that is a fine description. Reminds me of a friend's story. I might have told it on a2k before, not sure. She lived at the time in the apartment over the garage of the author she had previously worked for before whe went to law school. It was a hot night in the Hollywood hills, and she had her window open for breezes. At three a.m., she awoke to a giant clatter in the kitchen, pots and pans tumbling; she put on the bedtable light, saw a tail go by...put on the ceiling light, saw more tails go out the window...all but one, the littlest, who couldn't get back out over the sill. Mom raccoon was making awful noises calling to the (pup) from the garage roof...what to do, what to do!!!
Finally my friend put a pillow on a box in front of the window and the young one scampered up and out.
Summer in the city...
Little K, this particular raccoon of ours and the particular feral cat who inhabits the parking lot have some rapprochement... a pact we don't know the details of.
Great story, Osso. The Hollywood hills teem with wild life. (Take that as you will. Been there. Done that.)
Friends of my family took in some young raccons who's mama had been killed. I think there were three, they just made up a chicken wire structure for them and gave them food. But, we'd get to go by and play with them. They'd explore buttons, earings, hair, teeth with their little dexterous hands. You don't hold a raccoon and not fall in love with it.
