The pack moved slowly and quietly along a hedgerow biting at flies and snapping up fat grasshoppers. It was a small family of four coyotes, two pups and two adults. Soon the yearlings would drift away to find mates and their own lives. These wandering creatures shared the fields and forests with other beasts of two and four legs. Some were deadly adversaries and others were meals. They gorged on the smaller critters and escaped the larger animals. The spring season was a good time. Soon there would be plentiful bird eggs, baby rabbits, snakes, an occasional chicken, and other small critters. Fresh rains would fill the creeks and gullies and provide hydration and bathing places. Like God's other creatures the coyotes spent most of their time in the cycle of surviving; eating and reproducing their own kind.
The sound of a barking dog froze the pack. As their ears rotated to locate the sounds source they simultaneously broke into a run. They ran noiselessly and with ease. First, out of the open field into tall grass then through several creeks and into an area of heavy underbrush. As they wheeled around a corner one of the pups slid over a small steel trap and was instantly stopped. The other coyotes never looked back as the male pup wailed in a pain he had never experienced before.
The harder the little coyote pulled against the trap the more it penetrated fur and flesh. He snarled, bit, and licked at the trap but nothing changed his entrapment. He rolled over many times and this only caused him to pant and froth from exhaustion. His pain was a terrible thing. His natural instinct led him to twist and writhe into a furry ball to escape and hide from the hurt and fear that wracked his body.
Immobilized for hours, the coyote chewed and licked at the lower part of his leg crushed in the steel teeth. He sensed that escaping the trap was a matter of survival but biting at his mangled leg didn't help.
As the morning blended to a late day of shadows, the small coyote fell into an uncomfortable sleep. Suddenly he was aroused by the sound of twigs and leaves crackling nearby. It was a man and the coyote furiously strained against the trap. He had never encountered this creature but it was big and in his animal mind large beasts posed danger. A large stick whacked down at the coyote but missed.
However, the missed stroke hit the trap hard enough to sever the remaining shards of bones and leg tendons. Free the little critter first drug itself a few yards then furiously hobbled on its three good legs before a second swing missed. Wildly scampering the coyote never looked back as it found sanctuary in deep thorny patch of underbrush. The unleashed and howling hound refused to enter the coyotes refuge. Burrowing deeply into a hovel the coyote remained still until the light of day disappeared.
Rest was good and the festering wound aided by dirt and maggots slowly scabbed over in a few days. Even with his disability he was able to capture enough to eat and he adapted to being three legged. One day he encountered his family. They sniffed at his stump and only allowed him to trail the pack. His attempts to groom or be groomed within the group were met with snarls.
He was slow, but once again a free creature in the wild. The little coyote would not survive long as he was easy prey for a swift lynx or dog. This could never be a fuzzy Disney tale but a realistic account of one small animal escaping. The young coyote suffered mightily but managed to live as a free animal of the forest. His lifetime was only weeks or months, but as one of God's wondrous creations he somehow escaped a deadly trap.
Measured in years or decades, isn't our remaining life like the remaining time of the little varmint a wondrous gift from God ?
The sound of a barking dog froze the pack. As their ears rotated to locate the sounds source they simultaneously broke into a run. They ran noiselessly and with ease. First, out of the open field into tall grass then through several creeks and into an area of heavy underbrush. As they wheeled around a corner one of the pups slid over a small steel trap and was instantly stopped. The other coyotes never looked back as the male pup wailed in a pain he had never experienced before.
The harder the little coyote pulled against the trap the more it penetrated fur and flesh. He snarled, bit, and licked at the trap but nothing changed his entrapment. He rolled over many times and this only caused him to pant and froth from exhaustion. His pain was a terrible thing. His natural instinct led him to twist and writhe into a furry ball to escape and hide from the hurt and fear that wracked his body.
Immobilized for hours, the coyote chewed and licked at the lower part of his leg crushed in the steel teeth. He sensed that escaping the trap was a matter of survival but biting at his mangled leg didn't help.
As the morning blended to a late day of shadows, the small coyote fell into an uncomfortable sleep. Suddenly he was aroused by the sound of twigs and leaves crackling nearby. It was a man and the coyote furiously strained against the trap. He had never encountered this creature but it was big and in his animal mind large beasts posed danger. A large stick whacked down at the coyote but missed.
However, the missed stroke hit the trap hard enough to sever the remaining shards of bones and leg tendons. Free the little critter first drug itself a few yards then furiously hobbled on its three good legs before a second swing missed. Wildly scampering the coyote never looked back as it found sanctuary in deep thorny patch of underbrush. The unleashed and howling hound refused to enter the coyotes refuge. Burrowing deeply into a hovel the coyote remained still until the light of day disappeared.
Rest was good and the festering wound aided by dirt and maggots slowly scabbed over in a few days. Even with his disability he was able to capture enough to eat and he adapted to being three legged. One day he encountered his family. They sniffed at his stump and only allowed him to trail the pack. His attempts to groom or be groomed within the group were met with snarls.
He was slow, but once again a free creature in the wild. The little coyote would not survive long as he was easy prey for a swift lynx or dog. This could never be a fuzzy Disney tale but a realistic account of one small animal escaping. The young coyote suffered mightily but managed to live as a free animal of the forest. His lifetime was only weeks or months, but as one of God's wondrous creations he somehow escaped a deadly trap.
Measured in years or decades, isn't our remaining life like the remaining time of the little varmint a wondrous gift from God ?
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