While making my daily rounds during a frosty and chilly winter morning on the Catillac Ranchette I heard the beef farmer’s dog barking. After feeding the furry herd and the rock dove while checking their housing and water I noticed the dog was still barking. Woof, woof, woof, woof and so on and on and on. Dog would not let up. I rarely hear the neighbour’s dog that lives the next quarter section over; about a kilometre southwest. I thought the canine would lose his voice from the rapid-fire barking. It wasn’t the non-stop yipping that was stirring my curiosity. The tone indicated something different was happening.
I couldn’t see what was going on, but knew where the sound was coming from and with some elevation I might find out what was causing the dog to continue barking without a break.
Out came the binoculars as soon as I got inside and removed my winter gear. While scanning the white landscape through the window, I spotted a pair of four-legged figures a mere foot apart. The black dog was having words with a coyote. I watched as the dog wagged his tail and the coyote occasionally bared his teeth. A bit of movement occurred – mostly in miniscule increments and cautiously.
I was mesmerized, yet fear was lurking in my mind. I didn’t want to witness a violent confrontation between the two distant relatives. Grabbing a digital camera with a poor excuse for a zoom lens, I snapped some photos.
At least thirty minutes had elapsed and it appeared neither was giving up their ground. As much as I wanted to see how long the stand-off would last and how it would end there was the makings of an uprising inside the house. The furry five were getting
for their breakfast. I didn’t want an ambush and fed the felines while shooing Bob out of the cat queue. After dealing with the feeding frenzy I looked through the binoculars and was pleased to see they had parted ways without any wounds. The day was just beginning and it was anyone’s guess what else would transpire on the Catillac Ranchette.