Driving into Canyonlands National Park in Utah a few summers back, I saw about a half-mile ahead what appeared to be a small coffee table in the road.
The form began to take shape in the shimmering sunlight–the brownish-gray fur, pointed, oversized ears and long narrow muzzle of the coyote. It trotted off as I neared but, rather than dart into the underbrush, it turned as I slowly passed, its earnest eyes following me.
I stared back and for that brief moment it seemed we measured each other, two creatures, equally curious.
Although I never would claim to be an active environmentalist, such occasional encounters with the natural world seem to stick with me, providing a better sense of the place of predators and scavengers, and a respect for the complex and cunning coyote.
These days, they seem to be popping up with increasing frequency in the Chicago suburbs, occasionally snacking on family pets and prompting shrill howls from people who want to kill them or save them.
It may come as a shock, however, to realize that conservation officials estimate that between 20,000 and 30,000 members of the species Canis latrans call Illinois home. Driven from the state in the last century, the coyotes have managed a dramatic and increasingly noticeable comeback due to urban sprawl.
To many people who flee the city seeking a slice of solitude, the coyote is simply another nuisance, a more menacing version of that traditional bane to homeowners, the raccoon.
But to others, the coyote is a messenger, and his message is worth considering.
“The coyote is a warning,” said Allan Schnaiberg, a professor of sociology at Northwestern University who studies issues of development and the environment. “It’s telling us about the limits to growth.”
Schnaiberg sees a disturbing pattern afoot: City residents flee to remote areas but demand many of the comforts they left behind. “Solitude is a code word for a lot of things, including the flight from urban problems,” Schnaiberg said. “People pollute the last place they live and move to virgin territory.”
Wildlife problems have become exacerbated as once-sleepy towns 40 miles or more from the Loop wake up to find themselves bustling commuter suburbs. How long can this continue? Perhaps until the highways are so clogged with road kills as to be impassable.
Bon appetit, for coyotes.
Bob Bluett, a wildlife biologist with the Illinois Department of Natural Resources, said northeastern Illinois gives coyotes an unlimited food supply and good cover, without the presence of many hunters or trappers.
“They’re essentially living in a refuge right among one of the major metropolitan areas in the country,” Bluett said. “We may not like living with them, but they don’t mind. People need to recognize they’re there and not overreact.”
The coyote population seems to have leveled off since the mid-1980s, naturalists say, but the number of complaints about the animal haven’t.
Bluett said removal (which almost always means death) of coyotes in the greater Chicago area by wildlife pros has increased in each of the last four years: 56 in 1993, 126 in 1994, 176 in 1995 and 259 in 1996.
Even in Chicago, coyote sightings are almost an annual occurrence. A female, for instance, was picked up in January 1996 roaming the North Side.
Known to early settlers as the prairie wolf, the animals on average stand about 2 feet high and weigh 30 pounds. They feed primarily on mice, rabbits and squirrels, but also will scavenge garbage, enjoy fruits and vegetables, and are always up for road kill. In Los Angeles and Phoenix, they even roam alleys knocking over garbage cans.
It is this incredible ability to adapt to almost any environment–along with the elimination of natural enemies–that has sponsored the furtive, ordinarily nomadic coyote’s comeback and allowed it to live amid man.
Many environmentalists and naturalists don’t see a corresponding ability or willingness in humans.
“Everybody wants their little piece of the American dream–someplace out in the middle of nowhere,” observed Barry Laga, a naturalist with the Little Red School House, a nature center affiliated with the Cook County Forest Preserve District.
“Then they start calling us and saying, `How do we get rid of this?’ “
After a fatal attack in June on a toy poodle in Libertyville–allegedly by three coyotes–area residents requested the animals be removed, and one citizen volunteered to shoot them himself. The village assessed the situation and decided to live with it.
There also are examples in the other direction.
A month earlier, in north suburban Riverwoods, residents of a subdivision adjoining the Ravinia Green Country Club were resigned to peaceful coexistence with a nearby coyote.
They saw no point in killing an animal they believed had pups and posed no danger to them. But when a 9-year-old boy followed a bouncing ball into the woods surrounding his home one morning and found the coyote’s bloody carcass, normally reticent suburban mothers turned environmental warriors.
The country club had ordered the animal killed.
“I was outraged,” said Elizabeth Brenner, whose son found the carcass. “We’ve had lots of animal adventures out here. We have to find a way to live together peaceably.”
An official with Ravinia Green said the coyote was “acting in a threatening manner” toward golfers and even chased one woman who was walking her dog near the course.
“She had to be saved by some of our people,” said the official, who requested anonymity.
Local residents and several wildlife experts find the story highly doubtful. Coyotes are extremely wary of humans. Only one fatal attack in the U.S. has been recorded in the last century, and that involved a small child whose family had been feeding the animals.
“I think when you move here, coyotes are part of the deal,” Brenner said.
Two weeks ago in Vernon Hills, the Village Board agreed to end a project to move a family of foxes when a noisy group of residents–many of them children–pleaded that the animals be left alone.
Coyotes stir similar passions on the Internet. Sites devote space to all sides of the debate, from the ramblings of rabid animal-rights activists to ranchers and hunters who coolly describe the best way to lure the animals to eternity. A site based on a famous cartoon asks: “Is Wile E. Coyote in fact an example of the tragic hero, like Oedipus or Macbeth? Why are the laws of nature suspended in the Roadrunner’s favor?”
Bob Johnston, a vice president with the Home Builders Association of Greater Chicago, said that as long as the economy is humming, growth into coyote habitat will continue. “People want housing, and they’re going to go where it is,” he said.
Johnston and Jerry Conrad, executive vice president of Libertyville-based Cambridge Homes, both believe developers are sensitive to environmental concerns. Conrad said the coyote sightings probably have more to do with a successful approach to coping with ecology than urban sprawl.
“We are certainly doing a better job of preserving some of our ecologically sensitive areas, (and) maybe as a result of what we’re doing we’re growing a greater population of these animals.”
Schnaiberg doesn’t buy that.
“We are encroaching–no, encroaching is the mild word–we are destroying their habitat,” he said. “The process by which the rain forests are lost is essentially the same. Every subdivision destroys more habitat.”
The same could be said for every apartment building in Chicago, thus as a renter I could be as culpable as new residents of Grayslake or Hainesville or some other far-flung locale.
There must be a middle ground. Some places have purposely scaled back development–Baltimore just launched a program to promote development in decaying inner suburbs, of which Chicago has quite a few. Realistic environmental goals are needed. An awareness of the needs of the animal is crucial.
Naturalists and developers agree that education is the way to avoid conflicts: Don’t leave pet food outside; secure the garbage; make sure dogs stay leashed; erect fencing when needed.
Above all, Don’t Feed The Coyotes.
It also helps to have a sense of history. Times have changed for coyotes. For every suburban homeowner who wants them dead, there are those who regard them as symbols of a renewed respect for nature and worthy of preserving.
Regardless of which side you’re on, all attempts in the U.S. to outwit the coyote and drive it permanently from its home turf have failed indisputably, totally, abjectly.
“They’ve been shot, they’ve been trapped, they’ve been poisoned, they’ve been picked off from the air,” Laga said. “Wipe out one and it just opens a spot for another.”
