On peregrines & coyotes, rabbits & geese, and changes in the neighborhood

by Janet A. Ginsburg

Two small piles of mostly downy feathers in the grass were all that was left, evidence of a swift and deadly encounter. A robin – well, maybe a robin – had become a peregrine’s breakfast and soon, in a round-about food-chain sort of a way, would become a new peregrine. Yes, there are falcons in the neighborhood. There are falcons all along the north shore of Lake Michigan, nesting on urban cliffs of smoke stacks and building ledges from Waukegan right into the heart of downtown Chicago.

Naturalists had hoped the birds, which were reintroduced into Illinois a little over 20 years ago, would populate the state’s forests and nature areas, but peregrines know a good habitat when they see one, and this one comes with spectacular views. Every single falcon in the state so far  (and the population has rebounded to the point where the birds are now classified as merely “Threatened” and no longer officially “Endangered”) has opted for city life along the lakefront. Bright lights. Big bunnies…

Although peregrines mostly feast on other birds, to gardeners’ joy, they’ve also been known to snack on rabbits, ground squirrels and whatever else may serendipitously present itself. In the literal blink of an eye one morning, I caught the final moments of a peregrine’s signature beak-first dive and the abrupt end of some small animal’s short perky life. In that same blink, I realized that a new balance-of-urban-nature was taking hold.

It makes perfect sense that predators would follow prey into the heart of the urban / suburban wilderness. And in fact, it turns out that’s good for the goose (Canada) is very good for the coyote -- and whole host of smaller predators happy to walk in the clever canine’s fearless footsteps. 

Not only are coyotes bold enough to take on the wrath of parent geese to steal freshly laid eggs, they’re very, very good at it. So good, that during the season, they actually bury caches of eggs for future meals. And once nests have been plundered, a small furry army of raccoons, possums and others move in to feast, too. The result: almost every nest researchers examined showed evidence of attack. Hundreds of nests. Tens of thousands of eggs.

Coyotes, despite more than a century of government-funded slaughter in their native Southwest -- or more accurately because of it – are thriving. They have fanned out across the continent at numbers are higher than ever. Like their wolf cousins, only an alpha pair and occasionally a beta pair mate when a population is stable. But when faced with destruction of the pack, everybody mates, mates younger and has larger litters. In effect, the more coyotes you kill, the more you get. And the government has killed a lot of coyotes over the years –about 75,000 a year, mostly in the West to protect livestock -- using everything from leg traps and aerial shooting, to cyanide-laced bait traps buried in little land mines called M-44s. (Hello Homeland Security?...) Some states such as Utah still give out bounties for pairs of coyote ears.

Although coyote predation accounts for just 0.18% of cattle and 3% of sheep losses, such wholesale slaughter of a key predator means that all kinds of prey, including rodents and the many ticks, lice and diseases they carry, are protected as well.

Historically, wolves that have kept coyote populations in check. It takes roughly 10 times the territory to support a wolf as it does a coyote -- which is why, when wolves were reintroduced into Yellowstone a dozen years ago, coyotes in their territory were among the first to go.

Except for occasionally, like when a coyote trotted through the open door of a downtown Chicago Quizno’s one day this Spring. Sensing a tactical error, he quietly took up residence in a juice cooler while a couple of unfazed regulars finished lunch.

But the threat of less benign encounters, particularly with young children and pets, has made some uneasy about sharing territory with such accomplished hunters. With none of the usual lethal solutions politically viable, birth control is fast emerging as the wildlife management tool of choice. That, of course, would mean fewer coyotes to pillage goose nests, but there’s now birth control for birds, too. 

(read Part 2: “Nature’s New Balance: Family Planning Gone Wild”)