I woke up exhausted shortly after 8am. It wasn't raining like forecasted, but it was cold and damp all day, with stagnant dark clouds above. A perfect day for a rest. I didn't do much today but read. I relocated two mice (one looked sickly) down the street toward the ranchland, and at 2:04pm took the dogs on a 3.31-mile walk up West Hunter Canyon on Forest Road 367. I had not been up this canyon in a year due to the hunters. A lone grader was plowing through the dirt road to the trail head. Odd, that he'd be working on a Sunday. And why this road? To help the smugglers speed down the road safer? Hunter Canyon has resumed being a popular pick-up point for human smugglers and is often watched by our USBP. I am always on high alert while in this canyon, and always take my dogs with me when hiking through the area.
I was the only one in the canyon besides the forest service worker. There were no hunters today. We stayed on the road to the trail head higher up, then continued on the now-abandoned West Hunter Canyon trail, a short mile-long rutted trail that ends at Hunter Springs. Before the 2011 flood, remnants of several homesteads were still standing. Now the ruins have washed away and many of the old growth trees have burned. New junipers and oaks are coming back up though, making the trail once again good cover for border crossers. Before our 2011, this small section of old-growth pines was a favorite reprieve on hot summer days, with cooling shade and fresh water for the dogs. There are many dead stumps still mindful of that tragic fire
Dark skies were above the mountains and east toward Bisbee. It looked like more rain was possible. I wore four layers again, with my yellow rain coat the top layer. It was definitely chillier than yesterday. A hike to Miller or Carr would have been fogged out. I trekked uphill toward the springs at 6142' when I heard the dogs barking loudly. Sweetie, Sadie and Minnie were on the other side of the springs and Sweetie was tearing at something, a large brown stump. That's something Minnie would have dug after, too.
But it wasn't a brown stump. It was a cornered coatimundi, our local variation to the raccoon. What was it doing here, alone? Most coati are social animals and are seen in bands, but perhaps this was a solitary male. It looked like a good 30 pounds. With its sharp teeth and claws, taking on the coati would not have been wise for Sweetie.
Sweetie let go of the animal. It rolled downhill toward the springs a few feet below. It seemed a bit stunned but otherwise fine, with no visible wounds. After the dogs came back toward me, the animal continued to wobble along the creek bed, then crossed over as if wanting to check me out. That didn't look like normal behavior. Most animals would flee at the chance, especially with dogs around. I then wondered if it was a rabid animal. It looked old and weak, and one of its eyes looked damaged. It struggled back up the rocks, then found a more level rock mass to use to come toward me. I let it get close enough for me to take some photos, although all of them were blurry. This is the closest I've ever been to a coati.
I decided it was best to let the animal be. It stayed low by the water and sheltered under the rocks. Its brown fur easily blended into the surroundings. It was time to turn back and head down the hill; I had had enough excitement now and Sweetie's wild behavior toward the coati bothered me. I do not want her harming any wildlife of any kind. She's lucky we met a coati and not a bear or a mountain lion! Her behavior today proved once again that I can not trust her. While the other dogs walk ahead of me on the trail, she will still sprint off into the treeline or grass and hunt for something. She continues to be a potential liability.
The grader was still busy grading the road. I turned off the dirt road and on an old ATV trail that the forest service has closed off to motorized traffic. This trail leads to the official Hunter Canyon trail head that meanders into Miller Canyon (not to be confused with the West Hunter Canyon trail). We continued a bit along the creek trail, noting the old pet gravestone that once was at the start of the path, was no longer there.
The dogs were ahead of me now, following the trail. I had not been back here in so long, I had forgotten how pretty it is here. This used to be ~the~ area to walk the dogs, before I discovered Oak Estates. The sky was clearing in parts and the sun sparkled on the grass. A white-tailed deer flitted across the meadow and the dogs took chase for a minute until I called them back. Here's where I noticed that Sweetie was missing. Did she take chase? The other dogs were by me but she was no where to be seen. I called out her name, called out her name as we got back to the truck, then drove the 1/3 mile to where I had last seen her. Now I was getting annoyed. Sweetie is simply a dog that does her own thing, and that is not always healthy for others around her. I can't trust her to listen to me. I parked the truck for ten minutes waiting for her to come back, then yelled out her name one more time before I started the ignition and slowly drove off. I took the chance of leaving her behind to find her own way home. Would she have?
But like so many times before, the sound of my truck's motor got Sweetie's attention and I saw her running after the truck in my rear view mirror. I stopped near the cattle guard on the forest road to let her in, and she didn't even seem to want to get in. That damn dog!!! I was glad when I returned home with all dogs happy and panting and no wounds on any of them.
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