Coyote, the Trickster; the Legislature, and the Cockroaches.
Coyote has always been the Trickster, fooling humans, shapeshifting, changing the order of things.
Not just in myth and legend--but in reality. In the late 70s, I covered a story where the Oregon legislature was manipulated into creating a special law to make this coyote, named Kelpie, the only legal domestic pet coyote in the state. Found as a pup by a young Mom, Cheryl, and raised as a pet by her two daughters, Renee, right, and Robin; Kelpie prevailed against ranchers and wildlife biologists, and convinced urban legislators to swing the balance of the vote, creating a special law allowing the family to keep their pet coyote. When I interviewed the Mom, she was trying to interest Disney in a film about their "heart warming story".
On a follow-up visit, I had to keep a long distance from the young adult Kelpie. He lunged frantically at his chain and seemed miserable. "He doesn't like men," explained the Mom. The yard behind their trailer was a moonscape of dug out burrows, and the frantic animal ran around crazily, like a kite in a tornado. That was the last time I ever saw the critter living as a pet, and never heard any more about Kelpie and his "happy family".
I love animals. St. Francis is among my heroes. I particularly admire coyotes for their tenacious adaptability and independence. And I would never want one as a pet.
A month ago, a woman at the Oregon coast was arrested for feeding bears at her beach home near Yachats. Six bears came around regularly for meals, and the woman's neighbors were in a panic over the bear buffet invasion of their peaceful neighborhood.
I understand the attraction. Wild animals are beautiful, and if they pay attention to us, we feel blessed. We want to establish a bond. That's why we toss bread crumbs to the ducks, and enjoy the cute raccoon family that raids the dumpster. People have ocelots and chimpanzees, alligators and mountain lions sharing their homes. Sadly, our good intentions seduce wildlife into relying upon us, our civilization, and they begin to lose their most important trait, their independence, their very "wildness", their rightful niche in the circle of life.
Yes, we are animals, too. When we can, we should help wildlife survive and flourish. My good flickrfriend, Cordovaraven, was among those who stepped up to wash the oil-covered critters endangered by the Exxon Valdez oilspill--and in the winter months, his home in Cordova AK is like a branch office of the Audubon Society, as he nurses and provides for eagles and ravens in need of his help. His photography of the eagles and ravens is unsurpassed.
But the greatest gift we can offer to our wild brethern is to give them their space--maintain their wild habitat. Currently, less than a mile from my Puget Island property, plans for dredging a critical salmon estuary to create a huge shipping terminal for liquified natural gas are proposed, with a pipeline that would cut through rural farms and forest land--to import foreign super-cooled liquified gas to consumers in Los Angeles. Even Tijuana turned down a similar proposal, but corporate energy interests (including Northwest Natural Gas and Northern Star) shrug off concerns expressed by salmon advocates, such as Columbia Riverkeeper, and push their project in backroom dealmaking with lobbyists arm twisting the descendents of those same legislators who got tricked into the Kelpie the Coyote legislation.
There are better alternatives than pursuing foreign fossil fuels to respond to ever-increasing consumer demand. Windfarms, green construction, hemp biomass, geothermal--all provide homegrown solutions to the energy dilemna without further destruction of wildlife habitat. Coyote makes a poor pet, but an interesting neighbor--better than a world where the cockroach inherits the estate.
Coyote, the Trickster; the Legislature, and the Cockroaches.
Coyote has always been the Trickster, fooling humans, shapeshifting, changing the order of things.
Not just in myth and legend--but in reality. In the late 70s, I covered a story where the Oregon legislature was manipulated into creating a special law to make this coyote, named Kelpie, the only legal domestic pet coyote in the state. Found as a pup by a young Mom, Cheryl, and raised as a pet by her two daughters, Renee, right, and Robin; Kelpie prevailed against ranchers and wildlife biologists, and convinced urban legislators to swing the balance of the vote, creating a special law allowing the family to keep their pet coyote. When I interviewed the Mom, she was trying to interest Disney in a film about their "heart warming story".
On a follow-up visit, I had to keep a long distance from the young adult Kelpie. He lunged frantically at his chain and seemed miserable. "He doesn't like men," explained the Mom. The yard behind their trailer was a moonscape of dug out burrows, and the frantic animal ran around crazily, like a kite in a tornado. That was the last time I ever saw the critter living as a pet, and never heard any more about Kelpie and his "happy family".
I love animals. St. Francis is among my heroes. I particularly admire coyotes for their tenacious adaptability and independence. And I would never want one as a pet.
A month ago, a woman at the Oregon coast was arrested for feeding bears at her beach home near Yachats. Six bears came around regularly for meals, and the woman's neighbors were in a panic over the bear buffet invasion of their peaceful neighborhood.
I understand the attraction. Wild animals are beautiful, and if they pay attention to us, we feel blessed. We want to establish a bond. That's why we toss bread crumbs to the ducks, and enjoy the cute raccoon family that raids the dumpster. People have ocelots and chimpanzees, alligators and mountain lions sharing their homes. Sadly, our good intentions seduce wildlife into relying upon us, our civilization, and they begin to lose their most important trait, their independence, their very "wildness", their rightful niche in the circle of life.
Yes, we are animals, too. When we can, we should help wildlife survive and flourish. My good flickrfriend, Cordovaraven, was among those who stepped up to wash the oil-covered critters endangered by the Exxon Valdez oilspill--and in the winter months, his home in Cordova AK is like a branch office of the Audubon Society, as he nurses and provides for eagles and ravens in need of his help. His photography of the eagles and ravens is unsurpassed.
But the greatest gift we can offer to our wild brethern is to give them their space--maintain their wild habitat. Currently, less than a mile from my Puget Island property, plans for dredging a critical salmon estuary to create a huge shipping terminal for liquified natural gas are proposed, with a pipeline that would cut through rural farms and forest land--to import foreign super-cooled liquified gas to consumers in Los Angeles. Even Tijuana turned down a similar proposal, but corporate energy interests (including Northwest Natural Gas and Northern Star) shrug off concerns expressed by salmon advocates, such as Columbia Riverkeeper, and push their project in backroom dealmaking with lobbyists arm twisting the descendents of those same legislators who got tricked into the Kelpie the Coyote legislation.
There are better alternatives than pursuing foreign fossil fuels to respond to ever-increasing consumer demand. Windfarms, green construction, hemp biomass, geothermal--all provide homegrown solutions to the energy dilemna without further destruction of wildlife habitat. Coyote makes a poor pet, but an interesting neighbor--better than a world where the cockroach inherits the estate.