Based upon my experience with Charlie, Chloe, and the various dogs I know/ have known in my life, DOGS ARE SO MUCH EASIER! Part of this has to do with the experience I’ve gained from raising Charlie, and part of it is Chloe’s personality. But here are some little daily examples of the difference between them.
Chloe is obedient in the absolute. It seems her decisions are solely determined by what is being asked of her, what I want, and what would make me happy. Charlie, on the other hand, does what I ask, but it seems he often calculates in his mind whether it in HIS best interests as well as mine. Much more like a person. He follows commands, especially when we’re out on walks and with serious things like “drop it” when he steals the phone or other contraband, but when we’re just hanging out, the calculations come into play. If he’s outside playing and I want him to come in, it often takes the promise of cheese, so that he sees there’s something in it for him.
Other differences – Chloe smells way more like a dog. WAY stronger, heavier scent. Charlie’s scent is far more discrete. It’s the difference between a stargazer lily and a wildflower.
Chloe’s movements are heavier and more abrupt as well, despite her athleticism. Charlie moves much more like a cat than a domestic dog. Actually, in all of these descriptions, Charlie is closer in behavior and demeanor to a domestic cat than a domestic dog.
Edited to add, after receiving several emails pondering Eli’s influence on Charlie: I think the cat-ishness is coyote nature – MC sees it in the wild, and I’m always amazed when I watch foxes in the wild as they move EXACTLY like cats, and yet they are canines as well. My personal theory, after watching so many wild animals since I’ve been here, is that humans, as a species, have contributed to the development of certain traits in domestic dogs. With a life of conveniences comes a certain complacency…. But that’s an essay in itself!
This Spring, I recieved emails along the lines of “I want a coyote pup,” or “I found a litter of coyote pups and brought one home,” or “my husband shot a coyote, found her den, and we brought home all seven pups and we’re going to raise them and some of my neighbors want some too,” all ending in “do you have any advice?”
Charlie has changed my life in incredible ways; he has brought me joy and wonder and wisdom and has provided me with lessons I probably would not have learned any other way. However, it is not all peaches and roses.
Raising Charlie and giving him a high quality of life while keeping him safe and protected, and also keeping my neighbors and their animals safe and protected from him, has been expensive and time consuming – more expensive and time consuming than one would ever imagine. Luckily, I have an extremely low standard of living. I don’t mind driving a beater truck; I don’t mind living in a tiny, rustic cabin with really low rent. Luckily, I live adjacent to hundreds of acres of BLM (untouched public land) where I can walk Charlie for hours and never cross a road, never pass another house, never encounter another person. Luckily, I am able to make a living from home, which has allowed me to stay close to Charlie and attend to him throughout the day and go on hikes with him, work with him, or play with him all throughout the day.
From everything I have read and everyone I have talked with, coyotes generally do not accept more than one or two people. Charlie has never accepted anyone but MC and I. This means visitors must be dealt with accordingly to keep dangerous situations from even having the chance of occuring and to minimize stress on Charlie. It also means that I can’t bring him with me if I were to visit friends or family, and I can’t leave him with a pet-sitter and go on vacation. I am lucky that MC can watch Charlie if I should need to go out of town. But, I have not left my town in the past year that I have had Charlie.
I did not raise Charlie because I thought it would be “way cool” to have a pet coyote; I did it as the only recourse against a young death. MC’s presence and his lifetime of experience with coyotes and other wild animals has been absolutely essential, and, as “cute” as this sounds, I am dead serious when I say I could not have succeeded without Eli.
Charlie was – and is – a divine gift to me and he is a gift to the world. Would I make the same decision if I had it to do over again? Absolutely. Will I ever raise another coyote? No way.
Mix a toddler and a teenager and you’ll have some idea of the coyote trickster. Charlie can open cupboards, drawers, and can turn on the sink. He knows what he is and is not allowed to do, but sometimes he pulls out his tricks even if they run counter. His favorite thing to do when I was working on the book was jump on the counter and turn on the sink with his teeth. I’d get up and turn it off and scold him, sit back down at my computer, and minutes later, he’d have turned the water back on. Over and over and over!
Some believe the trickster brings the message of “don’t take things too seriously,” and this is certainly Charlie’s way. He doesn’t ever do any damage, but makes me realize how little, in the scheme of what makes up our lives, is really that important, and how very important the little things are.
Yes. I’ll go into details later / next week / sometime, but my manuscript is due Monday so that’s all I can muster here at the moment.
Charlie keeps his tail low 90% of the time – it’s a coyote thing. It’s actually a significant differentiation between coyotes and wolves other than their size – coyotes hold their tails low, wolves hold theirs out. Charlie raises his tail in plane with his back when he’s going after prey, either in ernest or in play, otherwise it’s low and nonchalant, and floats in the air as he moves like a plume.
Eli always has his tail up, but the very tip does change expression. It goes from totally straight (when he’s surprised or “on”), to a slight one-inch curve at the tip (normal), to the whole thing shaping into a shepherd’s crook (when he’s running fast).
