Frontier Justice?

Sometimes with deadline approaching I sit at my desk, sheer-softened sunlight illuminating the room through the south windows, e-mail in the rearview, wondering how to fill this space. Then it just comes to me in any number of ways, this time during a telephone conversation sweetened by procrastination.

I was chatting with a friend and neighbor about subjects we often discuss — things like antiques and auctions, local history and issues (plenty of those in Greenburgh these days), birds and wildlife. Nearing the end, he said he thought he had seen a coyote out back earlier that morning, alone. Could it be?

Sure, likely a coyote, probably not alone, though. There were others with it, perhaps concealed in the rush swamp or behind the wild rosebush, but they were there somewhere, probably rabbit hunting in unison for a squeal-frenzied dawn feast.

So there it was, a subject to write about: coyotes and the potential impact they’re having on deer in this deep, crusty snow that seems to have been with us for more than a month, never good news for deer.

I have been keenly aware of coyote presence around my home all winter, especially when I’m out with the dogs during the wee hours. I hear them working the frozen, skeletal woods, hooting, hollering, yipping, barking; family units hunting, sound ricocheting off the icy terrain, amplified by the cold, clear, black winter air. My dogs and cats are aware of them, too, well aware, for good reason. Coyotes are a danger to pets, and despite the fact that I rarely see one, I know they patrol the neighborhood, perhaps right along the perimeter of my dwelling.

During a recent telephone conversation with a local upland farmer, a woman, we somehow ventured to coyotes. When I told her my guess was that this winter’s been tough on deer, getting tougher every day under the current conditions, she concurred, saying they have to seek safe-havens where they can escape the canine predators. She then shared a proven rural remedy for coyote issues, one that’s apparently quite popular among hilltown farmers who keep livestock and/or fowl. ”We call it the three-S solution,” she said, ”see ’em, shoot ’em and shut up. It works for us.”

Myself, I know of and accept such homespun justice, even though I’m aware it doesn’t follow the letter of the law. Truth be told, even though they’d never admit it, most game wardens put up with it, too. They know that in the real world there will never be enough coyote hunters to keep the species in check. They also know the damage a runaway coyote population can do to game, large and small, furred and feathered. So they just ignore vigilantism, pretend they don’t hear the gunfire, and like members of the secret three-S club, mum’s the word. Like they say on the hardcourt: no harm, no foul.

There is no denying this winter has been a horrible one for Franklin County deer, at least in the western half I’m most familiar with. Whitetails do poorly on hard, crusty, treacherous snow, which allows pursuing coyotes the advantage of staying on top while quickly exhausting a hoofed, fleeing deer, breaking through. Not a pretty sight, forest slaughter; blood everywhere, patches of hair, hide and hair, a hoof, a naked ribcage or hind quarter, maybe a head or an ear, coyote scat, not much else. Murder and mayhem, that’s what it is, among the most brutal sort, akin to a 16th century English execution, disemboweled, drawn and quartered, a gruesome statement on the forest floor.

Coyotes have a big edge this time of year with deer entering their weakest physiological state, winter fat-reserves thin, high-protein food scarce; old, young and pregnant most vulnerable. Throw in the hard, icy surface and it’s much worse. When chasing a weakened deer, coyotes will often semi-circle and drive it toward a large frozen pond, where the pathetic animal slips and splays out immobile, awaiting a grotesque end.

With snow conditions as they now are, coyotes need no frozen impoundment. The snow is their lake, and it’s everywhere. Once the deer tires, it’s doomed to a horrid, unmerciful end. Myself, given a choice between that and the three-S solution, I’d choose the latter in a heartbeat. Short, sweet and dignified, at least that’s the objective when the trigger’s squeezed. And even if death isn’t instant, it’s still more humane than the one the victim delivers.

Is that what they call “frontier justice?” I guess so.

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