Esther and Ann have been over for dinner and they leave early, anticipating the drive home after a bottle of wine. Esther, a retired attorney who has turned her attentions towards shelter animals, lives with two rescued pugs and a few tortoises. She also writes a newsletter about NYC’s municipal shelter system that keeps us all informed about the on-going nightmare: Animal Care and Control (ACC) has more Animals than it can Control or Care for. (Sheltereform.org) If you live in NYC—you might want to hop onto her list and find out what is happening to our homeless dogs and cats. Should you volunteer to foster or go there to adopt you will be literally saving a life by getting any dog or cat out of this decrepit, underfunded system. Shelters in Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Staten Island are full to bursting with great canine and feline characters—all ages, sizes and types. There is no reason to buy a purebred dog.
But I digress.
Peter is doing dishes and I am sitting in the kitchen when we hear the unmistakable howls of coyotes on a rampage. It’s only 9:30 at night and the coyotes usually hunt for food much later. Their sound—yips and howls—are always thrilling—and unnerving. This evening the pack is closer to the house than usual and getting louder every second. Pearl and Spike are outside on the deck, where they love to lounge on a warm summer evening. I get up to go outside and bring them in when suddenly the terrifying sound of a dog fight cuts through the air like a bullet.
I grab a flashlight and rush outside to see a pack of coyotes close to the house. There’s fighting in their midst and I can’t see Pearl or Spike. One coyote, the size of a wolf, is standing guard, about 200 yards from me. Four others are huddled close by. One of them turns around and I see that he has Spike’s neck clenched in his jaws. The poor guy is squealing and struggling to escape. Pearl is planted in front of the coyote gripping Spike. Snarling and baring her teeth, she’s blocking him from running off with her brother. The pack is frozen, held in place by one fierce Pearl. I am horrified.
I begin calling to the dogs, screaming their names. The coyotes do not look at me or move. Then I shine my flashlight in their eyes, as if it’s a weapon, moving from beast to beast, flashing them. They don’t like the light. Suddenly, the coyote clenching Spike drops him onto the ground. He stumbles, then gets up and runs directly into my arms. I scoop him up and rush to the safety of the house. When I put him down, I see that I am covered in blood.
I rush back outside to get Pearl who is still growling fiercely, facing down five coyotes. It’s Stephen King scary and I do not know what to do. I call Pearl, hoping she can escape them, but she doesn’t move or look my way. I realize that if she turns her back on them for a second they may attack her.
I run to the garage. My plan, if you can call it that, is to drive my car right into the coyotes and force them to scatter so Pearl can escape. I back the car out of the garage and drive towards them as if I’m going to run them over, honking my horn and blasting them with the high beams. After a minute or two, they’ve had enough. The coyotes signal each other and run off in a pack. Pearl rushes over to my arms. She has survived and saved Spike’s life.
I inspect the dogs in the house. Spike is panting, covered with bites. Pearl does not have a scratch on her. Peter calls our veterinarian, describes the scene and he tells us to put both dogs in the car and come immediately to the clinic. It’s now about 11:00pm. First thing Dr. Jonathan Duryea says is, “Coyotes don’t attack pit bulls!” He can’t believe what he is seeing. Spike has 27 puncture wounds. Duryea cleans them, one by one.
Spike would not go outside in the dark for months. So, I built a 6 foot high enclosed pen with a bright light off my porch. The pen feels safe to them and they love it. Now, when the coyotes come through at night, the dogs howl at them from the safety of the pen or the living room. Pearl is our hero.
(Next week a shocking glimpse back at animal control in NYC)
OMG! What a story! Reminds me of the time Ruby held a coyote at bay when you and Peter were at our’s for dinner. This story is infinitely more harrowing though! So glad everyone was ok and yay Dr. Duryea!