Coyote - a tribute

Coyote just a couple of weeks old

It was a cold but bright morning in February 2007 when we first met Coyote. Several feet of snow covered the Northwestern regions of Pennsylvania but the streets were clear as we traveled to Jalerran Siberians, about 20 miles from the Ohio border. Waiting for Maggie and I was a 7 week old Red and White male puppy with a cute snow nose and warm amber eyes.

Coyote surveying his domain day one

Jess Moore, the kennel owner had told me, this little guy was the leader of litter, a dominant ball of fur and fire. As I was kneeling on the floor in the kitchen with the wave of curious puppies engulfing me, I discovered this little guy had picked my pocket, snatching my nylon puppy leash undetected and retreated to the other side of the room where he commenced slicing it into pieces with his needle like puppy teeth. Welcome to my world he was saying.

Coyote got his name from the Navajo Indians myths of the Trickster, the half human/half god deity. According to Wikipedia, a trickster is a god, goddess, spirit, man woman or anthropomorphic animal who plays tricks or otherwise disobeys normal rules and conventional behavior. It was a name that fit well to the canine spirit we brought home that day.

8 hours later we were back in Landenberg, where our new puppy met the current canine alpha of our household, the 2 year old female Bailey. And from the very beginning, Coyote let Bailey know just who was in charge, even if he was only 7 weeks old. There was a new sheriff in town, and Bailey better get with the program. Shaka, our 14 year old retired male alpha was fine with the new addition, correctly feeling this would keep our insecure Bailey from bugging him.

Back Off Bitch!

Once the command structure was determined, Coyote on top, Bailey 2nd in command and Shaka bringing up the rear, it was time for play. And with puppies and Sibes, that meant biting, chewing, wrestling and thumping each other. Activities that continue the rest of their lives.

Coyote was my "outside" alpha, my second in command of the pack. His job was to keep the rest of the pack in line. His managerial philosophy seemed to be the iron paw in the velvet glove. Not really a bossy dog, he allowed the other dogs great liberties in the small stuff. Didn't care if he wasn't the first one through the door or not the first one fed. He didn't sweat the small stuff. But the important stuff? Like the UPS and FedEx guys with biscuits in their pockets? Out of the way kids, I'll handle this.



Leading the pack on our hikes from day one.
Bailey and Shaka taking up the rear.


Day to day he wasn't overly affectionate like Ziva either. His was always the "cool dog" attitude. From one Alpha to another, it was Hey. What's Up? You cool? I'm cool. Maybe a little nod of the head, a thump or two of the tail, but that was it. Unless I was gone for a day or two, then the true colors would be shown. Tail madly wagging, he would be rushing the gate, growling and howling, and bestowing lots of doggie kisses now that his alpha has returned. But even then, I'll be rubbing and scratching his head, and no matter what, I ended up scratching his butt. He loved his butt rubs and was quite sneaky in maneuvering a person to his preferred area.

Chillin' in the office

Once order had been restored, he returned to his other great ambition, to be a gold medal winner in the sport of sleeping. He was definitely Olympic class material. At any given moment you could find him totally dead to the world, doing some major power snoozing. He took it quite seriously as some of these pics show, training from an early age.

These last two I call the Superman Sleep position as
he bends the space time continuum

Coyote was born and brought home in a snowy winter season and always loved that season the best, preferring to be outside in the snow if possible.

Hanging out during a storm on his doghouse

Relaxing on his Canine Alternative Relaxation Structure
aka Parts Cars in the back yard

After one particularly large snow storm I constructed a snow mound about 5 feet high in the back yard which became his temporary throne until it melted. Ziva and Bailey would strive mightily to knock him off, but to no avail.

At home in his world

While not a particularly big eater in his life, he did love peanut butter and yogurt containers. We would offer the almost empty containers and he would spend hours polishing them clean with his long tongue.

Happy dog - it would be surgical room clean when he was done

Coyote was low key. He wasn't our flashiest dog, he wasn't the insecure one needing the most attention (Bailey), or the hyper tail wagging (Ziva), but he was the foundation of our pack, our rock, and that includes us humans too. He was the only trustworthy one of the bunch, allowed to freely roam throughout the house with only the occasional husky counter surfing (to be expected).  He didn't chase our cats; trusted that humans would actually step over him and not freak out like rest of the dogs causing near spills. He was the smartest of our dogs, the only one in 25 years to figure out our swinging kitchen doors, allowing him to come and go as he pleased. The others would watch this feat of magic in disbelief but never tried it themselves.

He was also my Alpine Garage companion, hanging out when I was building engines, working on the racecar, relaxing on the parts cars in the yard and even checking on my trailer project this winter and spring.

Hanging out in the garage during an engine rebuild

A more complete view of his observation spot

Tail up, eyes bright, just doing his alpha check on the trailer rehab progress

He had the eating habits of a true Siberian, eating a bowl of kibbles one day, and not interested the next, supplementing his diet with voles and field mice in the fields if needed. He was a quick hunter, often pouncing on unsuspecting rodents on our daily walks and downing them before I even knew what was happening.

Sorry Mom, I was playing with my squirrel toy and it stopped moving

One peculiar quirk, definitely not seen in all my previous sibes, was a love of sunbathing. And when I say sunbathe, I mean laying out in 90+ days on our asphalt driveway, contentedly soaking up the heat. I would break before him, making him come back into the shade or into the house, but shortly later, back he would be stretched out against on the blacktop again.

On our summer time hikes, he enjoyed cooling off in the White Clay Creek. 3 different huskies and 3 different reactions: Ziva would only get up to her knees wet and no more; Bailey was all in, swimming in the deepest pools; while Coyote took the middle path, just getting his belly wet and he was happy.

Being of a dominant and independent alpha nature, he was what I call a "5 minute dog" like some previous sibes. Ask the pack on the porch "Want to come in" and I'll be knocked over by the charging beasts. Except Coyote. He would take the question under advisement, examine the pros and cons, consider alternatives, post a question on an internet forum before making a non-hasty decision 5 minutes later. Of course by then, MY patience had been exhausted and I was long gone. So that's when the barking begins "Yes, I do want to come in. I want to come in NOW!"

Here's a short clip of Coyote playing with Ziva when she was a new pup in the pack. Ziva came from the same mother as Coyote and they turned into best buddies. During the winter months I would glance out my side door and see both of them together, tightly curled into a ball with their noses covered by their tails, sharing their warmth as they snoozed together - with one eye part open for the UPS biscuit delivery truck.

Coyote graced our home for 6 years. Earlier this year he contracted Lyme disease, not an uncommon occurrence in  our area, both Maggie and I have had it. But in dogs, it usually lies dormant and doesn't cause much damage. In Coyote's case, it attacked his kidneys, destroying 80-90% of them before any symptoms appeared. Two months ago he seemed fine and healthy, but that was a façade. Today we helped him over the Rainbow Bridge to meet with our other Siberians waiting for us. His passing leaves a huge hole in our hearts. Godspeed Coyote, we miss you.