I’ve already had a call from a local sheep farmer asking me to come trap coyotes and a bobcat hanging around his sheep pens. Those coyotes and that cat would undoubtedly be hanging out there anyway, but usually at night, unseen. This time of the year emboldens predators to hunt and prowl during the day when they would otherwise never think of it. A reader from Abbyville contacted me over the weekend telling me they have lost most of their chickens to what she believes to be a fox, which by the way, do quite well living in towns or on the outskirts of towns in our part of the state.

In late spring a few years ago, my friend was busy in the big round top shed that sits toward one corner of his yard, when his little Blue Heeler dog began raising cane from outside. He stuck his head out the door to see what was agitating the dog and noticed the roosters and the rest of the chickens in his chicken pen crowing, cackling and nervously milling about. He glanced behind the barn nearest the pen and noticed something bounding around wildly just behind the corral, less than fifty yards away.

He headed around the barn and through the corral and found a whitetail doe jumping and dodging frantically around something in the field drive ahead. That “something” turned out to be a pair of coyotes with a small whitetail fawn pinned to the ground between them. My friend ran toward the melee shouting and waving his arms, the doe retreated into a nearby patch of weeds and the coyotes scattered toward parts unknown, leaving the lifeless looking fawn on the ground before him. Even though only a few scratches were apparent, the fawn lay there limp and listless. He said that as he stroked its small spotted body, the light suddenly came back into its eyes. It jumped to its feet and after getting its bearings, instinctively headed for cover. As he watched from a distance, the doe joined the fawn and they disappeared into a thicket some distance away.

Like springtime on the farm, springtime in the wild is a season filled with babies everywhere. Just as that whitetail doe had her fawn to protect and feed, you can bet those coyotes had a den full of hungry little mouths to feed also. It is no coincidence that there is more prey available in the form of young, easily caught critters at this time each year, just exactly when every wild animal needs extra prey to feed its young.

Isn’t it amazing how everything seems to come full circle back to the fact that God knew exactly what He was doing when he engineered the order of things! Even with the glut of easily caught lunches right now in the wild, predators are still opportunists at heart and will not think twice about grabbing a young farm animal or even cats and kittens if given the chance. As spring turns into July and August, increased predation seen in the spring will slow again, but in the meantime, there are a few extra precautions that can be taken to at least make the opportunists think twice about grabbing’ something from the coop or corral.

Even though you can’t keep an eye on poultry and young farm animals 24/7, giving them a place under roof to spend the night will help dramatically. Giving poultry a place to spend the night behind a closed door is a good thing any time of the year. Remember, despite their willingness to prowl more during daylight right now, a predator’s favorite time to hunt is still after dark. Keeping the grass and weeds mowed around pens will help also, as removing any cover predators can use to sneak close to a barn, chicken house or yard will help deter their presence. Sadly to say, there’s not a lot that can be done in town to deter predators aside from keeping cats, dogs and chickens within a fenced yard or enclosure of some sort.

Playing a radio and keeping a couple lights lit in the barn where sheep and goats spend the night will sound like human activity to a predator and can help deter their presence.

The most effective predator prevention is probably a good watch dog, even if it’s small. Dogs of any size make predators nervous, and even though any coyote, bobcat or raccoon worth its salt can easily overpower most small dogs especially if they catch them out in the open, a noisy little mutt relentlessly yapping away at them as they slink around the barn or sheep pen might at least make them question their plan and probably alert you in the process. Unfortunately a yappy little dog will probably not work well in town, as they might help keep predators at bay, but will surely keep you in hot water with the rest of the neighborhood.

Yup, its spring time in the Kansas outdoors again, and all the critters have families to feed. Unfortunately that means predators too, so as they follow their God-given instincts to protect and feed their young, young farm animals, chickens and even cats and kittens might be taken if the chance arises. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not condoning that, after all, I’m a coyote trapper. But I am saying that understanding why it happens helps me look at it from a slightly different perspective ….Continue to Explore Kansas Outdoors!

Steve Gilliland, Inman, can be contacted by email at [email protected].

I was visiting with a girlfriend today about cat behavior and how despite being domesticated house pets share wild counterparts’ behaviors. This discussion retrieved a nearly forgotten memory involving two kids, a bike, a cat, and a mouse.

The adventure began on one of those sensational spring evenings when the wind doesn’t blow and the sun sinks slowly into the horizon making your system vibrate so that even though you’re tired, you aren’t ready to settle down. Just as I called the girls inside for their bath, a squall emerged from our rural driveway where our eldest was practicing riding her bike without training wheels. She’d mastered starting, stopping, and turning so I’d gone in to draw their water.

Racing outside, I found her sprawled in gravel. Thankfully there were no broken bones, but after close investigation, I saw pebbles and dirt chunks embedded in her knees and palms. I guided her into the house where she could soak it loose in the tub, making it easier to remove. As I led one sobbing child up the steps, I spied our youngest trying to take something away from the cat. So much for hindsight, I’d think later.

I comforted tear-stained kid 1 while she trickled water over skinned appendages when I heard a shriek from child number 2. She raced into the bathroom with something dangling from her finger. She held it out to show her sis, and I observed a mouse–yes, a writhing rodent attached to her index finger.

Daughter 1 joined little sister’s howls while the mouse wriggled and contributed squeals of its own. However, it didn’t let go. At that point the cat raced in to check on the prize that he’d caught and been tormenting before our fair-haired girl intervened.

At this point, I’m scared the critter will fall into the bathtub furthering injuring daughter 1 so I guided little sis’s bleeding hand over the commode. In turn, she bangs the hitchhiker on the toilet rim. When our feline leapt to recapture his prey, I abandoned our toddler long enough to toss the cat and slam the door. Curiously, that action multiplied the volume in the bathroom, perhaps inducing the mouse to release its vise-like grip and somersault into the toilet.

Someone, and I suspect it was me, flushed the stool. I know I didn’t have a carcass when the thought of rabies flitted across my mind. Of course, my husband was at work and out of reach so I told kid 1 to keep soaking her wounds. I disinfected kid 2’s bite and comforted her as I simultaneously called the emergency room to see if we needed shots.

The good news was we didn’t. The bite victim contentedly sported a Band-Aid on her injured digit while I picked gravel from her sibling. It wasn’t painless, but the extended soak that left daughter 1 wrinkled like a prune made it easier to clean her wounds.

By the time their dad returned, sleep was the last thing on anyone’s mind. We had red badges of courage and stories to tell. The only one in the house still upset was the cat who meowed repeatedly over his lost snack.

Native Kansan Karen Madorin is a local writer and retired teacher who loves sharing stories about places, people, critters, plants, food, and history of the High Plains.