Categories
Cottage Life

Don’t do it for the ’gram: why wildlife photography can be dangerous

In the spring of 2019, Cheryl Feldstein was stuck in traffic along Highway 16, leading into Jasper National Park in Alberta. A male elk was standing at the side of the road. Cars pulled over, helter-skelter, while tourists clamoured to get an up-close photo with the beast. Too up-close, in many cases. This was a scene she’d witnessed before. As the former executive director for a wildlife rehabilitation facility, Feldstein has worked alongside community partners and the media to educate the public on the dangers of close-up photography—both for the animal and the human. It was discouraging to see that so many hadn’t received the message. 

One of the worst parts, she says, is knowing that often the people taking these photos love wildlife as much as she does. “I am sure we would be hard-pressed to find a single person doing this who wants to hurt an animal,” says Feldstein. 

The education that Feldstein and others are doing is important now more than ever. A survey conducted by the Nature Conservancy of Canada at the beginning of 2021 showed that an increasing number of individuals, because of the COVID-19 pandemic, are spending more time outside, and they have an increased desire to preserve and connect with nature.

What’s the big deal? 

Taking and sharing photos of wildlife is one way that people can forge that connection. And the fact that everyone has a cell phone at the ready changes the game. Now, wildlife photography isn’t just the purview of professionals. Natalie Robertson, a member of the North American Nature Photography Association Ethics Committee, has spent seven years taking pictures of animals in their habitat as a part-time professional photographer. She knows the risks associated with her work, but for many people, a split-second decision to snap a photo close to wildlife can have grim consequences. Any wild animal, no matter how docile it appears, can be unpredictable and can seriously harm a person. 

“You should never underestimate the fear reaction in these animals,” says Hope Swinimer, a wildlife rehabilitator and the star of Hope for Wildlife on the Cottage Life channel. “They do not want to be near you. They will try to escape.” Some animals may display warning signs—birds will puff up their feathers, or an elk might stomp its hooves. “When an animal tries to make itself bigger, that’s often an indicator that it is fearful and stressed,” she adds. “You may want to see how they’re exhibiting the behaviour, but they want you to back off and leave.” And some people are finding out the hard way—in 2020, a woman in Yellowstone National Park was gored by a bison after she came within three metres of the animal to take its photo. “Some species will feel that their only choice is to fight, others may take off,” says Swinimer.“There’s very few instances where turning your back on a wild animal is a good thing.”

Robertson knows some people will go to extensive lengths to get a good photo. She’s heard of photographers baiting animals, and she’s witnessed people trampling vegetation to get a better shot. Most of the time, these interactions end up being far more deadly for the animals. 

“By being in their territory, we pull them away from hunting, mating, or nesting,” says Swinimer. “It’s like if you were going through your work day, and the phone rang 30 times—you wouldn’t get your work done.” Aside from disrupting the tasks they need to do to survive, feeding wild animals or veering off trails into their habitat can have additional consequences. “Think of a walk in the woods as entering a mini biosphere,” she says. “There’s thousands of living things. You could disrupt the food supply or step on a nest or an underground habitat without knowing it. Every bit of intrusion can have a negative impact on the health of that particular little environment.”

Even less overtly bad behaviour can cause problems. “You might walk past a fox with their babies, stop to take a few pictures, and think nothing of it,” says Swinimer, “but when you leave, that fox may move those pups to another location because it felt threatened in that spot.” That’s a lot of work, energy, and disruption to the foxes’ life. On the East Coast, snowy owls that arrive when winter starts are emaciated, tired, and dehydrated from their journey. By approaching the bird for a photo or to look at it, it will expel its last bit of energy to flee from you, which could be the difference between life and death for that bird. On rare occasions, animals may even leave their family unit out of fear. Harbour seals have been known to abandon their young after seeing a person approach a pup, says Swinimer. And that still may not be the worst-case scenario. Wildlife can suffer from something called “capture myopathy.” Stress or fear can cause an animal to not get enough oxygen, which forces it to use energy stored in its muscles. This leads to a build-up of lactic acid that can go into the bloodstream and cause death instantly, or even weeks after an interaction. “We have to remind ourselves that we’re really big, and these animals are fearful for their lives,” says Swinimer.

There’s another risk of frequently interacting with wildlife—habituation over time. By coming closer to humans, an animal may be injured or killed by off-leash dogs or hit by cars. Many habituated animals, such as bears that come too close to people, are euthanized in order to prevent dangerous interactions.  “I do believe that certain wildlife are more capable of handling interaction,” says Swinimer. “I can walk by ducks, geese, and gulls, and I’m not stressing them. Some foxes are even used to people if they live around the city.” But what’s true for one animal may not be true for another: a city raccoon may react differently to you than a country raccoon. And even though you might be okay seeing them on your property, your neighbour may not be. That “never ends well for the wild animals,” says Swinimer. 

Why are we so drawn to animals?

The reason we find wildlife so compelling may be subconscious. An article in the Journal of Outdoor Recreation and Tourism published in 2017 revealed that nature enthusiasts report having the most memorable experiences when they see large and rare species in close proximity in their natural environment. It’s an emotional pull that sometimes overrides common sense. 

Beyond seeing animals in the wild, posting photos on social media has added another layer. In her research examining the psychology behind wildlife close-ups, Feldstein realized that people tend to take photos not just to connect with wildlife but to connect with each other. Her ideas correspond with findings published in Caitlin Evans’ Colorado State University PhD dissertation. Of 599 college students surveyed, a small portion were likely to post risky wildlife photos if their peers had liked similar pictures in the past. 

Educating the public about the dangers of such photos still plays a big role in getting the point across. And it can be done succinctly—one of Yellowstone National Park’s slogans is “Give them room, use your zoom.” 

But it’s not just ignorance, says Feldstein. People might see the dangers but still really want those photos. “Being close to wild animals, you get overwhelmed with emotions, and you’re in a state of wonderment. It is almost like you get the spark of a kid in you.” 

Where do we go from here?

Feldstein believes that parks and other areas can leverage social reinforcement through signage and other materials—though she admits it’s tricky. They need to provide clear information encouraging best practices without shaming people. “You don’t want to directly tell people they’re being jerks,” says Feldstein. But at the same time, she says, you want them to think about the effects of their behaviour. 

Sara Dubois, the chief scientific officer for the B.C. SPCA and a University of British Columbia adjunct professor in applied biology, agrees that beyond keeping a safe distance from wildlife, individuals can influence others on social media to only photograph using a zoom lens. 

“The longer the lens, the more you can give an animal space,” says Natalie Roberston. Phone cameras these days are good enough that you can zoom in, especially if you rest it on something stationary. Dubois also encourages people to share information about the dangers of habituation and stick to portraying wild animals in their natural habitats. 

“I do think it’s a combination. I think that people need social media feedback to tell them it’s wrong. But very few people will call out their friends and say: ‘Hey dude, that’s a bad idea,’ ” says Dubois. Some platforms, such as Instagram, are helping get the message out. “If a social media platform or a contest’s rules don’t let you upload the photo, maybe that’s a lesson learned.” (See “Social Media Takes a Stand,” below.)

Dubois also thinks that professional photographers and photo contests should emphasize the amount of space between themselves and the photo subject. “Often, it looks really close, but in fact, the image was taken with this type of lens or camera from this distance,” says Dubois. The  B.C. SPCA’s photo contest also bans photographers from baiting animals, tracking them, or posing with them. 

All of our experts agree that no photo is ever worth disrupting an animal or putting yourself in danger. “We, as photographers, whether professional or amateur, have the responsibility to respect wildlife,” says Robertson, “and we must put their welfare ahead of a photograph.” 

Caroline Barlott is a freelance writer from Edmonton, Alta. Her work has appeared in publications such as Discover, Canadian Geographic, and Edify.

Social media takes a stand

Instagram began discouraging irresponsible wildlife photography in 2017 after World Animal Protection pointed out that there had been a 292 per cent increase in users posting wildlife selfies on the platform since 2014. Now, if someone searches for or clicks on a hashtag like #wildlifeselfiea pop-up message in part says: “You are searching for a hashtag that may be associated with posts that encourage harmful behaviour to animals or the environment.” The platform also includes a page with more information about the importance of respecting nature and wild animals. World Animal Protection also has a “Wildlife Selfie Code” on their website, which helps direct people on when it’s safe to snap a photo.

Categories
Cottage Life

Avian flu showing up in mammals

After several skunks and foxes were found sick in the Medicine River area, Alberta wildlife specialists were stumped. The animals were all experiencing blindness, seizures, and cloudy eyes. Eventually, three foxes died. Alberta Fish and Wildlife later confirmed with lab tests that five skunks had the avian flu.

“The avian flu here in Alberta hit everybody suddenly and there’s still an awful lot of unanswered questions,” says Carol Kelly, wildlife rehabilitator and executive director at the Medicine River Wildlife Centre in Spruce View, Alberta. “Animals and birds that scavenge dead birds can contract it.”

Two of the five sick foxes did eventually recover and were released, Kelly says. “The difference that we know so far is that mammals can recover from it and they do not pass it on the way birds do,” Kelly says.

The contagious strain of the avian influenza virus has been spreading across the country, affecting wild animals and farm poultry alike. The highly pathogenic avian influenza (HPAI) virus is widespread, even affecting birds and wild animals in PEI.

“This isn’t the first time that we’ve had HPAI or avian influenza in Canada,” reassures Thom Luloff, senior wildlife biologist at the Kawartha Wildlife Centre and conservation biology professor at Fleming College. Luloff primarily teaches vertebrate biology and animals disease and pathology. “We’ve had avian influenza since 2005.”

How to keep birds (and yourself safe from avian flu)

“We’re more interested in diseases now because we’re coming out of a pandemic,” the biologist adds.

The Canadian Food Inspection Agency and stakeholders, like concerned poultry farmers, developed a “robust and effective” avian influenza strategy plan years ago, Luloff explains, referencing the pathogenic strain of the influenza virus from 2014/2015. “This isn’t the first time we’ve done this.”

Avian influenza, or bird flu, is most often found in waterfowl like ducks, geese and other shorebirds, Luloff says. Certain strains of the virus—like this year’s—can spread to poultry like chickens and turkeys. In early May, the Chicken Farmers of Canada reported the virus in nine provinces across Canada.

At the time of the interview, Luloff says the risk is “really for domesticated birds,” as there have not yet been any major mass mortality events in the wild.

“Wild ducks are known to be the principal reservoir for the global gene pool of all influenza avian viruses,” Luloff says. He reiterates that we should not feed ducks bread, or any wild animals anything at all. “We shouldn’t even be in contact with them,” he says. “They need to do what they need to do.”

“When we’re purposely making a connection [with wildlife],” he adds, “that is a problem. That breaks that separation that is supposed to exist between wild animals and anything that is domestic,” Luloff says, humans included. “It’s our pets, it’s our poultry—it’s us.”

We now know that the avian flu can affect foxes, which are canines, or dogs, but we haven’t seen it move into other species yet, Luloff says. “If we continue to keep our distance, that’s not something to be concerned about.” The more we interact, “the more likely something is to happen,” he says.

“If you have birds that have any contact with outside,” Luloff says, “you want to be very careful because these birds are highly vulnerable to infection and death.”

“You can’t do anything once they’re sick,” he adds. Birds with the highly transmissible virus sicken quickly and die quickly. “It’s always a good idea to be careful and clean with your feeders and your birdbaths in general,” Kelly says. Diseases can spread easily if feeders are not cleaned well or often, she adds.

According to Environment and Climate Change Canada, the use of bird feeders is still safe on properties without domestic poultry. Birds Canada recommends regularly cleaning feeders, if you have them.

For now, Luloff recommends taking down feeders altogether, encouraging people to maintain a safe separation between domestic and wild life. “Prevention is the absolute best way to minimize issues with avian influenza,” Luloff says. “Let’s just enjoy the beauty of nature. Let wildlife do their wild thing.” For personal safety, Kelly advises hand washing and avoiding touching the face after handling any animal.

Birds affected by avian flu will have symptoms such as “unexplained emaciation”, head-twitching, poor balance, and weakness, Kelly says. If you encounter any birds exhibiting similar symptoms, she advises calling a professional. “Let’s appreciate wildlife and keep it wild,” Luloff says. “That is better for everybody.”

Bird feeders causing illness in birds in the Pacific Northwest

Categories
Cottage Life

Wild Profile: Meet the pronghorn antelope

Here are a few things that you should know about the pronghorn antelope. One: it’s the second-fastest land animal on earth. Two: thanks to very bulbous eyes set far back on its head, it has better vision than any other ungulate—a pronghorn’s field of vision covers 300 degrees. Three: it’s not actually an antelope. Wait, what?

Pronghorn antelope vs. antelope 

The species’ scientific name (Antolocapra americana) means “American antelope goat.” But it’s not closely related to either of those animals—it’s not part of the antelope family at all. A pronghorn’s closest living relatives appear to be the giraffe and the okapi (a species that looks like a cross between a deer and a zebra, native to the Democratic Republic of Congo). True antelopes live mostly in Africa, with smaller pockets in Asia and portions of the Middle East. In Canada, pronghorn populations are largely restricted to parts of Saskatchewan and Alberta.

How fast can a pronghorn run? 

This non-antelope can sprint as fast as 92 km/h—only the cheetah is faster. Why are these skinny, deer-like animals so speedy? They’re built for it, with long legs and can take big strides, plus large hearts and lungs in relation to their size. Some experts believe pronghorns evolved to be so fast because they once lived in grassland habitats alongside now-extinct cheetah-like predators. This could also be the reason they developed such great eyesight. A pronghorn can spot a predator from up to six kilometres away. That’s a real advantage to survival in a flat, plains environment. Oddly, for an animal that’s so leggy, pronghorn antelopes aren’t good jumpers. Unlike deer, they’re more likely to crawl under an obstacle—a fence, for example–rather than attempt to leap over it.

Categories
Cottage Life

Rare bird spotted for the first time in Canada

A small, grey-brown sandpiper spotted in Thedford, Ont. proved that one doesn’t need to be the flashiest bird to catch people’s eye. The first sighting of a marsh sandpiper in Canada brought enthusiastic birders to the region in the hope of catching a glimpse of this unique find. 

The marsh sandpiper stands on long, yellow legs that allow the bird to wade through shallow marshlands in search of food. The migratory species, which can be found in eastern Europe, Asia, Africa, and Australia, has a distinctive white “eyebrow” marking above its eye.

“The marsh sandpiper is native to Eurasia, and so this is the first time its officially been recorded in Canada,” says Natasha Barlow, an Ontario projects biologist with Birds Canada, who made the trip to see the Thedford marsh sandpiper. “Poor weather conditions can push birds off of their flight path, especially during migration when they may be making long-distance flights, and emergency landings in areas where they usually wouldnt be (like in Thedford) can occur,” she adds.

The vagrant marsh sandpiper was first spotted by birder James Holdsworth at the Thedford Sewage Lagoons, as reported by CTV News London. The exciting find prompted the Ontario Field Ornithologists to arrange access to the property for birders to witness this once-in-a-lifetime sighting. 

One of those birders was Paul Riss, who goes by the moniker “the punk birder” and was featured in the CBC Gem documentary, Rare Bird Alert. Riss earned his nickname thanks to his efforts to break down the stereotypes of old, stuffy birdwatchers; instead, he is a proponent that birdwatching is a hobby for everyone.

Riss made an eight hour trek to see the marsh sandpiper, noting that he was not likely to get this opportunity again in his lifetime. Along the drive he was “praying to the bird gods that it was still going to be there.” He arrived at the site and trained his scope. 

“There it was,” he says, “with that lovely white marking on its back. I couldn’t believe it.” 

He observed the sandpiper walking around in the shallows, stopping to feed and preen its feathers. “It was lovely to see,” he says. “The people I was with, they were so happy.”

For those interested in experiencing the thrill of spotting a new species for the first time, Riss recommends that people connect with the Ontario Field Ornithologists to learn the ins and outs of birdwatching. But he emphasizes that birding as a hobby can be as casual as keeping watch on a backyard birder feeder. “To be a birder, you do not need to chase rare birds,” he says. “If you really enjoy birds, you’re a great birder.”

Categories
Cottage Life

This cottager carved a wildlife tribute on his ATV shed

“It’s not uncommon to see wildlife such as foxes, bears, and even moose near the cottage,” says Bob Hayward, who has cottaged on Salerno Lake, Ont., since 2012. So when he set out to build a shed for his ATVs last winter, he looked to his surroundings for inspiration. “This was my tribute to the natural environment,” he says.

Needing a large, level surface to work from, and to protect his project while it was in progress, Bob built the doors out of 5⁄4-inch pressure-treated pine at home on his basement pool table. After sketching the deer onto graph paper, he transposed it onto the shed doors using chalk and string. He then used a Dremel tool to carve the image and a chipping tool to deepen the grooves. He finished it off with an Epifanes marine varnish to protect it from the elements and then transported the shed doors outside—which was no easy feat. Negotiating his basement’s curved landing, Bob carefully manoeuvred the doors up and down until he could squeeze them out through the tight space. “We only had one inch to spare,” he says. The weight of the doors also added to the challenge—Bob used three sets of iron hinges to securely attach the door to the 12-by-7 foot shed. “Next time, I would probably use a fence board, which is thinner,” he says.

While the project took longer than Bob had originally anticipated—60 hours spread out over three weeks—he’s happy with the outcome. “I got a lot of enjoyment from carving the design and playing around with the depth and shadows of the image,” he says. As for his next project? He plans to carve bears and moose into a pair of deer antlers that he picked up at a garage sale.

Categories
Cottage Life

A bear-proof bird feeder, can it be done?

For many years, Mark Kreger had a bird feeder, one that was strung on a wire between two poles about 10 paces apart to keep it out of the reach of local wildlife. But late one season at his cottage near Kearney, Ont., the feeder went missing. It reappeared the following year, about 100 metres away in the bush, with some obvious bear damage. “I clearly had to think of something better,” he says. “Originally, I thought higher posts and a higher wire, but I didn’t want to have to use a ladder to refill it,” says Mark. He decided to try a feeder that pivots. “It’s like a teeter totter, but a vertical one.” 

Mark first tried dangling his bird feeder from a wire on a 2×3 of spruce attached to a post he made from a small tamarack. “An animal snapped it like a toothpick after a few nights,” says Mark. The next design was a metal conduit attached with two hooks and bolted to the tree, but an animal bent that too. As any loyal Cottage Life reader knows, humans are often no match for determined wildlife. “I finally reinforced it with rebar, but the animals still bend it,” he says. “It’s been bent to such an extent and so often that I now remove the feeder every evening and replace it in the morning.” An avid DIYer, Mark isn’t fazed. “I enjoy the challenge,” he says. “But for now, the bears have won.”

Though Mark loves to scavenge for materials, he bought the conduit and the rebar for about $30. Common visitors to the feeder include goldfinches, blue jays, and the odd hairy woodpecker.

Solved a cottage problem by building something? Show us: edit@cottagelife.com.

Categories
Cottage Life

Cottage Q&A: Is a fox stealing our flip-flops?

This summer, a fox had been coming unusually close to our cottage (and we had been shooing him away). We leave our flip-flops on our deck. One morning, we found many of the flip-flops gone. They were scattered all around the property, and some went missing entirely. Is it possible that the fox was the perpetrator?—Andy Cloutier, McKay Lake, Ont.

Yes. And actually, Occam’s Razor says “probably.” Sure, one of your neighbours could have been messing with you, but “foxes have a reputation for stealing shoes,” says wildlife expert Kim Cabrera of the International Society of Professional Trackers. (Last summer, a fox in Berlin was found with more than 100 shoes in its den. Mostly Crocs. Since foxes can neither apply for credit cards nor shop online, we assume the entire stash was stolen.)

Why snatch footwear? There are theories. “They seem to take items with an odour,” says Fiona Reid, the author of the Peterson Field Guide to Mammals of North America, who’s witnessed a fox scampering away with a stinky pillowcase. 

12 fantastic facts about foxes

Meet the red fox

They could also like playing with shoes—that would explain why your flip-flops were scattered around the property. And shoes make for good teaching tools; adult foxes may take them back to their dens for their offspring. Look, Fox Junior! This is how you kill a bunny rabbit! “I’d expect that more with leather shoes than Crocs, but I guess anything that can be tossed in the air and chewed could work,” says Reid.

Since you never caught the thief in the act, we can’t be certain that your loitering fox was to blame. Still. Don’t leave any Air Jordans on the deck next summer.

This article was originally published in the Winter 2021 issue of Cottage Life magazine.

Got a question for Cottage Q&A? Send it to answers@cottagelife.com.

 

Categories
Cottage Life

Wild Profile: Meet the greater yellowlegs

The greater yellowlegs has—wait for it—yellow legs. Good call, whoever gave this shorebird its common name. In March, the migratory bird begins to come home from winter U.S. digs in brackish wetlands, mudflats, flooded fields, and, ugh, sewage ponds, headed to Canada’s boreal wetlands and damp meadows. Greater yellowlegs parents seem to prefer shallow water and shrubby ponds where they can safely raise their kids. Who wouldn’t? During breeding season, the birds will sometimes fly up to and then perch on trees to watch for predators.

The greater yellowlegs vs the lesser yellowlegs

The greater yellowlegs walks with a high-stepping gait, its limbs flashing. Its cousin species, the lesser yellowlegs looks (no surprise) almost identical. But the greater bird is literally greater—that is, larger—with a longer, thicker bill. Side-by-side, most folks could see the difference, but when each bird is solo, it can be hard for anyone but an experienced birder to ID each yellowlegs.

What does this bird sound like? 

The greater yellowlegs’ screechy alarm call is one reason why birdwatchers don’t love this guy. It tends to scare away other shorebirds, so its nicknames are “tattler” and “yelper.” The most common call is a chirpy, ringing cry: tew tew tew. (It sounds, at least to some people, that the bird is saying its name: “yel-low-legs”). If you want to hear the bird in real life, be prepared to spend some time in boggy areas. When it’s dry, head to muddy reservoirs or lakes; when it’s wet, you can spot them in flooded fields. Adult birds also tend to wade into deeper water compared to other sandpipers—one reason that birders call the greater yellowlegs a “marshpiper.”

Categories
Cottage Life

How to live peacefully with coyotes

On average, three people per year are “attacked” (that means bitten or scratched) by coyotes across Canada. In comparison, an average of 180 Canadians per year are reportedly struck by lightning. Critically, 100 per cent of incidents involving coyotes are linked to human feeding.

I have studied coyotes and other wild canids for over 30 years. Co-existence with coyotes is possible. My understanding comes from many places: being a care-giver to orphaned coyote pups, studying the development of coyote play and communication, helping trap and radio-collar them, supervising multiple theses and, most recently, monitoring a multi-generational coyote family for years. I interact with coyotes at very close range, and sparingly use aversive conditioning, which involves using my voice, body, and a held object to establish boundaries.

Distorted risks

I am often asked how citizens can protect themselves against “aggressive coyotes.” In my research, I found that coyotes rarely exhibit aggression, but human fear of coyotes is pervasive and overrides scientific evidence. While sometimes unintended, the use of risk narratives (including misplaced words like bold, aggressive) by scientists or media has the demonstrated effect of tapping into existing fear—this is referred to as the “social amplification of risk.”

People then normalize the idea that coyotes are likely to attack, rather than the more apt narrative: Coyotes are simply trying to survive, preferring to avoid people. When coyotes react, it is to protect themselves, their mates or pups from an actual or perceived threat, like dogs chasing them or coming into a den area, or a person poking at the den with a stick. In the reports that I have reviewed where dogs were attacked, over 90 per cent involved dogs off-leash and at-large.

Coyote reactions stem from context and experience, they are varied and rarely about aggression. Habituation in cities may have led to delayed or less dramatic responses in coyotes, as compared to non-urban coyotes that often desperately flee from humans.

Living in the city

Conflict with coyotes is preventable, but when it occurs, it does so in the context of several human-centred factors. Habituation of coyotes is often the first identified culprit. This means that the coyotes become accustomed to human activities, learn to “tune them out” and direct attention to those things that are more important, like finding food.

In wildlife observational research, scientists often strive for animal habituation so the observer may be in plain sight, yet “invisible,” allowing animals to do what they do. In the absence of immediate threats, coyotes learn to sometimes disregard humans.

Yet, there is this myth that habituation is bad and that coyotes should fear people. But there is no evidence that the natural state of coyotes is to desperately fear humans that are nearby. I believe this line of thinking is a colonial mindset that demands animals to be submissive to humans.

Habituation may lead to proximity issues, which can cause conflict if it is coupled with food conditioning—the intentional or unintentional feeding of coyotes. This arises when people fail to keep yards free of food attractants like dog food, bird seed, fallen fruit, or compost. A coyote learns to depend on that food source, which can can increase the risk of the coyote guarding food against people and pets.

What is most catastrophic to co-existence is when people decide to deliberately feed coyotes. That often is a death sentence for the coyote because it can eventually demand food. Coyote demand behaviour may include a coyote latching on to a person’s clothing or limbs in an attempt to get food, and can be mistakenly classified as aggression or attack. Once a coyote has bitten a person, the chances of rehabilitation are low relative to the risk of escalation, and a coyote exhibiting this behaviour would likely be killed.

Several studies about coyote diet in Calgary, conducted in my lab, showed less than two per cent of samples contained pet remains. Coyotes are not fully to blame: the city has a bylaw prohibiting free-ranging pets, which many people disregard, subjecting their pets to possible death by owl, eagle, bobcat, domestic dog, coyotes and vehicles. Coyotes often just scavenge, earning them the label “nature’s clean up crew.”

Dog encounters

coyote cubs play around a fallen tree
Coyote parents are very defensive of their pups, who are born around early April.
(Shutterstock)

Coyote pups are usually born around early April, known as denning season, and coyotes shift into pup-guarding mode. As a result, there can be a spike in conflict between dogs and coyotes, almost exclusively due to a perceived intrusion by a domestic dog.

Coyotes may first warn by standing and staring, this will increase to vocalization, a bluff charge, then an attack on the dog if the owner does not withdraw immediately.

Coyotes in non-urban situations might prefer certain den characteristics (for example, south-facing slopes), but in fragmented green spaces that dot cities, coyotes may be forced to be resourceful—and the more disturbed they are by people or dogs, the more prone the coyotes are to move pups somewhere perceived to be safer.

Wild profile: meet the coyote

Last year at one study site, I observed hundreds of people a week, many with dogs, walked right past a father or mother coyote with four pups less than 30 metres away. The parent coyotes were measured, careful and avoided conflict routinely. Over the course of thousands of possible interactions that summer, there were six reports of “aggressive” or “bold” coyote interactions. In these rare cases, a parent coyote either escorted, bluff charged or vocalized to repel dogs that were allowed to wander in closed areas—there were no attacks or injuries.

On the University of Calgary campus, we have a peaceful wildlife co-existence program, based on monitoring and investigation, education, enforcement, and mitigation. With the help of supportive staff and faculty, responsive deployment of signage or closures, removal of attractants and the measured use of humane aversive conditioning, our program ensures coyotes and surrounding communities continue to use the campus safely, promoting biodiversity and sustainability in the urban ecosystem.The Conversation

Shelley Marie Alexander, Professor, Geography, University of Calgary

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Coyote sightings are on the rise in neighbourhoods across Canada

Categories
Cottage Life

How to live peacefully with coyotes

On average, three people per year are “attacked” (that means bitten or scratched) by coyotes across Canada. In comparison, an average of 180 Canadians per year are reportedly struck by lightning. Critically, 100 per cent of incidents involving coyotes are linked to human feeding.

I have studied coyotes and other wild canids for over 30 years. Co-existence with coyotes is possible. My understanding comes from many places: being a care-giver to orphaned coyote pups, studying the development of coyote play and communication, helping trap and radio-collar them, supervising multiple theses and, most recently, monitoring a multi-generational coyote family for years. I interact with coyotes at very close range, and sparingly use aversive conditioning, which involves using my voice, body, and a held object to establish boundaries.

Distorted risks

I am often asked how citizens can protect themselves against “aggressive coyotes.” In my research, I found that coyotes rarely exhibit aggression, but human fear of coyotes is pervasive and overrides scientific evidence. While sometimes unintended, the use of risk narratives (including misplaced words like bold, aggressive) by scientists or media has the demonstrated effect of tapping into existing fear—this is referred to as the “social amplification of risk.”

People then normalize the idea that coyotes are likely to attack, rather than the more apt narrative: Coyotes are simply trying to survive, preferring to avoid people. When coyotes react, it is to protect themselves, their mates or pups from an actual or perceived threat, like dogs chasing them or coming into a den area, or a person poking at the den with a stick. In the reports that I have reviewed where dogs were attacked, over 90 per cent involved dogs off-leash and at-large.

Coyote reactions stem from context and experience, they are varied and rarely about aggression. Habituation in cities may have led to delayed or less dramatic responses in coyotes, as compared to non-urban coyotes that often desperately flee from humans.

Living in the city

Conflict with coyotes is preventable, but when it occurs, it does so in the context of several human-centred factors. Habituation of coyotes is often the first identified culprit. This means that the coyotes become accustomed to human activities, learn to “tune them out” and direct attention to those things that are more important, like finding food.

In wildlife observational research, scientists often strive for animal habituation so the observer may be in plain sight, yet “invisible,” allowing animals to do what they do. In the absence of immediate threats, coyotes learn to sometimes disregard humans.

Yet, there is this myth that habituation is bad and that coyotes should fear people. But there is no evidence that the natural state of coyotes is to desperately fear humans that are nearby. I believe this line of thinking is a colonial mindset that demands animals to be submissive to humans.

Habituation may lead to proximity issues, which can cause conflict if it is coupled with food conditioning—the intentional or unintentional feeding of coyotes. This arises when people fail to keep yards free of food attractants like dog food, bird seed, fallen fruit, or compost. A coyote learns to depend on that food source, which can can increase the risk of the coyote guarding food against people and pets.

What is most catastrophic to co-existence is when people decide to deliberately feed coyotes. That often is a death sentence for the coyote because it can eventually demand food. Coyote demand behaviour may include a coyote latching on to a person’s clothing or limbs in an attempt to get food, and can be mistakenly classified as aggression or attack. Once a coyote has bitten a person, the chances of rehabilitation are low relative to the risk of escalation, and a coyote exhibiting this behaviour would likely be killed.

Several studies about coyote diet in Calgary, conducted in my lab, showed less than two per cent of samples contained pet remains. Coyotes are not fully to blame: the city has a bylaw prohibiting free-ranging pets, which many people disregard, subjecting their pets to possible death by owl, eagle, bobcat, domestic dog, coyotes and vehicles. Coyotes often just scavenge, earning them the label “nature’s clean up crew.”

Dog encounters

coyote cubs play around a fallen tree
Coyote parents are very defensive of their pups, who are born around early April.
(Shutterstock)

Coyote pups are usually born around early April, known as denning season, and coyotes shift into pup-guarding mode. As a result, there can be a spike in conflict between dogs and coyotes, almost exclusively due to a perceived intrusion by a domestic dog.

Coyotes may first warn by standing and staring, this will increase to vocalization, a bluff charge, then an attack on the dog if the owner does not withdraw immediately.

Coyotes in non-urban situations might prefer certain den characteristics (for example, south-facing slopes), but in fragmented green spaces that dot cities, coyotes may be forced to be resourceful—and the more disturbed they are by people or dogs, the more prone the coyotes are to move pups somewhere perceived to be safer.

Wild profile: meet the coyote

Last year at one study site, I observed hundreds of people a week, many with dogs, walked right past a father or mother coyote with four pups less than 30 metres away. The parent coyotes were measured, careful and avoided conflict routinely. Over the course of thousands of possible interactions that summer, there were six reports of “aggressive” or “bold” coyote interactions. In these rare cases, a parent coyote either escorted, bluff charged or vocalized to repel dogs that were allowed to wander in closed areas—there were no attacks or injuries.

On the University of Calgary campus, we have a peaceful wildlife co-existence program, based on monitoring and investigation, education, enforcement, and mitigation. With the help of supportive staff and faculty, responsive deployment of signage or closures, removal of attractants and the measured use of humane aversive conditioning, our program ensures coyotes and surrounding communities continue to use the campus safely, promoting biodiversity and sustainability in the urban ecosystem.The Conversation

Shelley Marie Alexander, Professor, Geography, University of Calgary

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Coyote sightings are on the rise in neighbourhoods across Canada