Living rural, living closer to nature.

The coyotes, or co-dogs, coyote-dog mixes, are back, and looking to feed their young.  We've had one guinea snatched, and two attacked-but-escaped.  I've been out on the deck with the rifle, waiting for them, but no luck thus far.

We humans in this country, especially suburban-dwelling humans, live in a pretty safe world, some zip codes excepted, of course. But for the most part, we don't see a lot of death, except in the form of road kill, or the more antiseptic forms of human passing due to age or infirmity.

Move rural, and have any livestock at all... and you see that out at the farm, the critters live in a dangerous world.  Out here, you see it a lot, as you're just closer to it.

And so are critters like cats and dogs.  We've lost a cat, the bonsai smilodon Sergeant S'mudge,  to predators, and we spent a small fortune on the repair work needed when Kiki and Gunner drove off the coyotes earlier this year.  Over the last two years we've lost dozens of birds to coyotes, raccoons, hawks, and owls.  We've had 5 horses die out here, one who got tangled in wire and two mares who died foaling, and we lost the babies, too.

Of course, we've had the fun of lots of births, be they chicks, keets, or goats, and lets face it, babies are fun.  It's also fascinating to watch the critters learn, too.  We've got one banty hen, Darling, who lives like a troglodyte.  Over the summer we lost most of our banty and "fancy" chickens  - in the event, it appears we lost them to hawks and owls.  Darling is one of two survivors.  And during the day, when the others are out and about, she stays under cover - literally, as she goes into the space under the hen house, and only comes out for food and water when there are bigger birds or us around, so that she isn't an easy target.  She's learned and applied the lesson.  She's also always been a very friendly bird, she likes to fly up and sit on your shoulder and chat.  And when she's relaxed enough (sitting on a roost in the hen house) she'll sit there and quietly talk to you.  Whatever it is she's talking about.

The two guineas who've been attacked (with injuries, one has a probable broken wing) have also modified their behavior, and don't venture as far out as the once did. They've even established a "Wounded Warrior" facility over in the aviary - they've taken over the hutch where we acclimatize young birds prior to letting them run free - we call it "keetergarden."  They hang out in there, getting food and water, and behind a couple of fences and under cover.  And we didn't put them there.  They got themselves there.

So it's more good than bad.  But when it's bad it's heart-wrenching.

Last night I got an email from a buddy who lives a few miles away from here.  His little piece of ground, and the dogs who provide the guard, were assaulted yesterday.  With a casualty.

The mourning flags are flying at Flying Pig Farm. Annie, our blonde haired, blue eyed Scottish Lass and boss dog of the farm yard fell in mortal combat with the Coyotes. I found her body this morning after she failed to answer evening and morning muster. She did not become carrion, our other dogs apparently drove off the assailants, but she could not survive her wounds.

We buried her as befitting a warrior, near where she fell, the Flowers of the Forest accompanied the procession to the burying place. The whole Regiment was on parade and on the march back to barracks we had all the Tunes of Glory: The Black Bear, the Gathering at Lochliel, Scotland the Brave. the drums and the pipes were at the quick march I once had a dog, his name was Blue, I betcha five dollars he was a good dog too. Here Blue, you good dog you.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! where the Exterior Guard sings a spark to Piddler's Green, to await her master's march down the road to Fiddler's Green.  Fare thee well, thou good and faithful friend.

You will be avenged.  Don't mess with my tribe.