12/23/2023: A Winter Tale of Tails

This is a tale of animals on the move. After our last snow, Clair, Zane, and I went for an early morning walk up our county road. Winter always brings my tracking geek out and that day was perfect. First, I saw a very fresh set of rather small, nearly clawless prints heading with a determined stride straight up the road….no turns or stops. No more than 5-6 hours old. The animal was a fox, with long legs and paws in a perfect one-in-front-of-the-other line. There’s a mama fox living down-canyon from us, so maybe her?

**Fox prints (courtesy of Wildlife Illinois) shows the barely visible claw marks**

After about a mile, a second set of prints joined the first, these slightly larger, more dog-like, and laying right on top of the fox’s. A coyote was checking out where the fox was headed and following closely; maybe to a good meal? They were serious critters, as they both ignored the numerous bunny paw prints crisscrossing the road, which looked to have happened earlier last night. Then, even older, snow-blown sets of elk tracks, maybe 3, appeared, headed in the same direction. Were Ms. Fox and Mr. Coyote following the bigger animals in hopes of finding one that was ill or dying?

**Bunny joins the crowd (actually, was out before the others during the night)**

After a couple miles of this, the dogs and I reached a meadow where a hunter’s camper is permanently parked, and immediately, in the space of 5 feet, all the tracks scattered: the elk fading into the woods above the road with a few leaps, the fox and coyote running left and right, in circles, across each other, and then down into the arroyo below us, completely disappearing in the thick scrub oak and willow brush. I stood there staring at the now untouched snow in front of me, trying to make sense of what had happened to get all the animals so excited. A bear? A lion? There haven’t been any hunters up that far this year that we can tell, but maybe someone came over from the Jicarilla Apache Reservation, just 1/4 mile up the hill.

It was time to turn around, and as I did, I noticed that Clair had disappeared. Up until now, the dogs had shown little interest in all the tracks, other than the rabbits. They were more interested in running through the snow and begging me to throw sticks. Clair normally only wanders off when there is something extra delicious (read: stinky and rotten) nearby to dig up. I called her, and called again. Hmmmm, unusual for her to not come straight back. Finally, she showed up, but refused to come close.

**Clair, and what’s that in her mouth?**

It took me a minute, but I realized she was carrying a very fresh, very dead, deer leg. Oh, yum! It still had some fresh blood dripping. Clair had a huge smile on her face.

Now, the whole story was made clear. Something, likely a hunter from over the mountain, wounded a deer, but then lost it (shame on that hunter for not continuing the search). The doe (likely, given the small size of the hoof) struggled down to the arroyo, where there was a bit of running water, and lay there for who knows how long until it died. The elk, innocently traveling through during the snowstorm either heard the death throes of the deer or caught scent of her or the hunter, and spooked up into the woods. Last night, Ms. Fox, with her uncanny sense of smell, got a whiff from miles away and came trotting up our road, determined to get there ASAP. Mr. Coyote, smelling both the fox AND the deer, figured he better get out there and see what was happening. Venison beats mice any day.

Fox and coyote meet by the cabin, and run around to avoid each other (they are not always enemies and would prefer to sidestep any confrontation) but, eventually, they both head to the deer carcass. There are mountain lions around, after all, and if you’re a coyote or fox, you definitely want to steer clear of them! How did they divide up the spoils? Did they share and share alike? Or fight over every morsel? I did not go down there to find out (again…mountain lions).

Clair, Zane, and I show up the next morning and Clair’s nose leads her straight to the kill site. Zane was busy chasing a stick and had no interest in wandering. Clair didn’t have time to gnaw off a leg, so it must have been done by either fox or coyote. (Who are exactly where at this point? Gone to their dens, full and happy? Hiding in the brush until we’re gone?)

What a treat for a dog. She kept a good 100 feet away from me and Zane all the way home, growling whenever he came too close, hoping for a bite. She’d run ahead, then drop and chew, then run ahead again. By the time we got home, all that was left was that poor doe’s hoof. By then, Clair was done with it and gently left it on our front stoop as a gift, while she went in to take a nap.

The End

In other news, to escape the now muddy conditions, Alan and I spent a day in Taos, doing some last-minute Christmas shopping. We stayed at our favorite, dog-friendly Inn at La Loma Plaza and took a hike along the West Rim of the Rio Grande Gorge. Great views.