Animals are all in fine fettle. We are in receipt of two marmot and three coyote babies. The Scarlet Pimpernel (one of the coyotes) is something else. She came with a genetic defect. We watched her try to eat, so hungry, so desperate for food, but slowly starving to death, so weak she could barely life her head. But she WANTED TO LIVE, as any good coyote would with their phenomenal life force. We kept her alive for a while with IV fluids, but she finally she was only a few hours from death. You could feel the life force ebbing; the point of no return being reached. Another trip to the vet, a barium x-ray, and phone calls, brainstorming… and we finally found out what it was. A ligament at the base of the esophagus that is supposed to release after birth did not let go and was putting a stranglehold on any food going down. The vets said certain
death sentence. However.......!!! Feeding tiny amounts of fresh strained chicken soup by eye dropper every hour she beat all odds, made it through the night, and started to gain strength!. We tested out various ways of enriching her liquid diet, but still she developed rickets. Her little legs were bending like rubber despite being fed Vitamin D enriched goat's milk and fresh raw egg yolks donated by our chickens. We added several hours of sunshine, and vitamin and calcium supplements for a 50 pound dog. Her legs straightened out. She is now pure hell on wheels and a bully besides--so sweet though, and so charming when she wants to be. Completely irresistible!

At four months we'll see if she needs the equivalent of open heart surgery to correct her esophagus. But the pleasure she gets out of life!!! The vitality and joy--she barely touches the ground as she darts hither and thither--so light and full of ecstasy, leaps and twirls.

The other two came in a miserable state. I have never seen an animal in such terror as little Skitter. His sister Faerytail was in terror too, though not as bad. He lay frozen in a corner for hours in one position, legs drawn up tight to his body like
a person in a long coma, unable to respond even to gentle washing of his belly with a soft warm sponge. You wonder what happened. For those of you who saw Murder In The First, he reminded me of that prisoner, all twisted and distorted; or of Dov
in the book Exodus, after his experience in the concentration camps. In my more poetic moments in the early dawn half sleep I wondered if he held the terror of all the coyotes we have tortured over the centuries. That made me all the more
determined to help him live ...

He refused to eat, staring out with terrified eyes, not even closing them to sleep. Jean got the feeling from him that ;life wasn't worth living. A coyote!!! He held him for hours while reading, while watching the news. I would put him under my shirt and
tied it around my waist so he wouldn't fall out. He would find the darkest tightest spot, usually under my armpit, and I would walk around doing my chores, slightly lumpy. Sometimes there were two lumps. Faerytail also needed extra comfort and contact, though at least she would eat and show some interest in life. Construction workers on the property looked at me oddly ….periodically my shirt would wiggle as they tried to burrow deeper. Faerytale would timidly invite Skitter to play, touching him gently with a paw. He would barely respond with a twitch.

We named him Skitter because he was so light, so fragile, like those delicate bugs skittering across the surface of water. We got him to gingerly take in little bits of food but without enthusiasm. Then one day, after trying everything we could think of to ease and reassure him and failing, we took a chance and released Pimpenel in the same room. She took one look, streaked over, assumed the stiff-legged dominance position over him and growled savagely with lips drawn back.
He stared in bug-eyed in panic and disbelief. Then in a flash something switched. He uncurled, rolled on his back, wiggled all over, peed in ecstasy. Faerytail and Skitter squealed in delighted submission. Skitter started coming out of his shell. He still wants nothing to do with humans; retreats into his frozen position at any unknown or sudden sound or movement and into a depression when Pimpernel is taking her sun bath. But his appetite is good, and he comes vibrantly alive again as soon as she enters the room, squeaking and chirruping at the sight of her; flipping on his back with all four legs waving in ecstatic greeting , enthusiastically running and playing with his BELOVED who continues to dominate him mercilessly. Coyote squeals of delighted submission ricochet throughout the cabin as he flips on his back with her jaws at his throat - then he seeks it out again. (Willow, our 4 year-old coyote does that with Streak, screaming across the ranch as he never touches a hair on her body. I thought it was a female drama queen thing, but my mind is being constantly broadened). In any case there is one coyote that means the world to another, who in his eyes is everything, who is precious and irreplaceable.

If you would like to hear more about Skitter, Faerytail and the Scarlet Pimpernel and how they are progressing, bookmark this website for future updates. Better still, become part of our Adopt-an-Animal family and receive regular updates.  

To make a donation, click here