Turds revisited

Scat found on the flume trail, October 23, 2010

Not sure of the critter that dropped this load, but it didn't look like the usual coyote and gray fox scat I am used to seeing.

Fred sniffed them with unusual interest, telling me it was not the same old stuff.

It was twisty and segmented, but I wasn't tempted to share in Fred's olfactory experience.

So I scanned the trail for other hikers and dog walkers, and discretely took the picture above.

The turds were still there yesterday, and two and half months of winter weather had prepared them for closer visual inspection.

They were filled with black and white hair.

Young and Goldman wrote that "Skunk hair has been found in puma dung throughout most of the animal's range in the United States".

That doesn't prove they were left by a puma, which often cover their scat.

So the identification as puma scat is just a guess.

The same scat 2 and a half months later.

Scatological art

Art is where you find it, and I found this creation on the flume trail.

If you find this curious or amusing your mind is as addled as the writer's.

Camera trap ikebana

[the ikebana cam, aimed at a coyote latrine 

on a mowed path in the coastal scrub]

I'm paranoid about losing cameras to outlaws but lazy about camouflaging them with vegetation. 

My rationalization is that few outlaws are willing to traipse through "no man's land" where I put the cams. 

I am also certain that Fred and I leave a gamey scent trail in our wake, and no amount of self-flagellation with switches of bay or stepping in cow flops can mask it.  

It's said that 2 weeks can pass and a dog can still detect a weak human fingerprint left on a glass slide.     

But if you want a full frame picture of a coyote it's still good practice to camouflage your camera trap. 

A combination of camouflaged camera, downwind movement of air, and a coyote's mental distraction can conspire to make a good candid shot, or perhaps one at the moment of detection. 

So I decorated my latest coyote set like an ikebana master.  

The trail was littered with coyote scat, but one latrine was close to a thicket of coyote brush (Baccharis pilularis) and blackberry.

[the coyote latrine]

I snipped sprigs of coyote bush and pulled dead grass as the redhead critiqued their placement. 

When I finished, the cam wasn't completely hidden, but most of the outline was broken. 

The finishing touch was to baste a few turds with coyote lure. 

If a yodel dog sniffs them for just a few seconds, I might get a candid portrait.    

 

A clear day, another set

[Fred next to camera set #219]

It's raining again, but I am not complaining. We had a few warm clear days, and yesterday I set another camera trap about 2.5 miles from the house.

When it comes to setting up cameras, Fred's an absolute nuisance.

He barks at me, removes things from the rucksack, pulls at the cable when I'm attaching the camera, mounts me when I am adjusting the camera's view, and runs off with the GPS when it is averaging locations.

It's the kind of frustration you curse about and then chuckle.

While this particular site offers little in the way of scenery, it is situated at the edge of a narrow ridge where animal trails converge from both sides.  

Ponderosa pine, oaks and mazanita -- good edge habitat.

[This is the camera's view. I previsualize each set as stage where the animal will make its appearance. I want the animal to pause in front of the ponderosa.]

I dabbed some coyote anal gland scent on the base of the tree. Fred was on it like stink on a skunk.

On the way back I stumbled upon this old scat.

Whatever left it--puma or coyote--it was eating deer. Fred stepped on it and didn't even notice. But he can find and tries to eat every turkey turd in the woods.  

When that happens you wouldn't believe a cursing old man could move so fast. 

A pair of song dogs

[She's leading, he's following.]

A pair of coyotes passed the camera on the morning of December 31st. Though they were moving away from the camera, we were grateful nonetheless.

Judging from the number of turds on it, this a one hot coyote route.

We gathered a couple handsful of the fur-packed goodies back in December and made a false latrine right where the male coyote is pausing in the picture above.

During the previous period the latrine didn't slow them down at all. The camera made 13 exposures in 41 days, and not a single one had an animal in it.

Passing coyotes were probably out of sight by the time the camera fired up and shuttered (about 3.5 seconds).

Notice that they are staying close together. The mating season (January-March) is close at hand.

You can also see their tail glands quite well -- those are the black spots on the base of the tail.

A pair of coyotes on the last day of the year . . . could this be a harbinger of better coyote luck next year?

[The dog trot continues.]

Candy crunching coyote

Rich encountered this scat while checking the camera trap line on the mountain. There was more to this coyote scat than the usual hair and bones.

The critter had bolted down a package of Bolitochas Tamarindos, or at least the wrapper, which was pretty much intact. This Mexican confection is described as "tamarind flavored hard candy balls with a chili filling for an extreme burst of flavor".

Where it found the candy is another question. Did some campesino lose his snack to a prowling coyote? Or did the coyote find it in the trash at some construction site?



When Rich checked the cam at the puma scat, there was an image of a female coyote -- possibly the candy snatcher. Though coyote scat is common on the trails, this is our first picture of the species.

Unhappily, the camera had shifted in the case, possibly due to the bear's mischief, and the animal's head was cut off.

Could this be the scat inspector?

Just back from 3 days in California's inner coast range with three of my codgerly friends. We had a ball, and you'll hear more about it soon, but for now I have only a question.

What does a turkey do when it encounters a pile of carnivore scat?

No, this isn't an April Fool's joke, and no, it doesn't gobble it down. But the picture above tells me turkeys may pause to inspect little piles of poop.

Have a look below. This is what was on the trail -- a collection of carnivore turds -- and you can see them under the hen's breast (above).



Okay, the picture doesn't show the bird actually examining the scat. The exposure was probably a little late for that. But in view of the camera's 3-5 second lag time, I suspect it was the scat that caused the bird to pause.

One of my fellow codgers suggested a reason why turkeys might examine animal scat. Maybe they recycle the seeds in it. Or maybe they attract insects that the turkey gleans with her beak.

Trail poop is always food for thought, at least for old biologists.

On the prowl

Winter and spring seem to be my mountain lion season. This picture was taken on February 18th at 7:00PM. (The glare is reflection from water on the lens window.)

I presume it was the same cat that passed in the opposite direction 19 hours earlier, and 3 days earlier. That vague image of the cat's derriere is 11 paces away (about 50 ft).



It's probably safe to say it was working the north ravine for deer and jackrabbits. I found mountain lion scat about 100 yards up the trail. (No, it didn't eat a camera trap and pass the AA battery.)



By the way, this deer trail passes within 50 yards of my house.

I expect this cat has moved on by now, but I won't be disappointed if I get more pictures.

The fine art of scatology

I sent this photo to my old friend Brian Miller for help in identification. (Brian manages the Wind River Ranch in NE New Mexico). I found the scat on the trail next to the house. It was big and packed full of jackrabbit fur.

Brian answered: "Halfpenny says red fox scats are less than 18 mm wide (92% of the time), and coyote scats are between 18 mm and 25 mm wide (63% of the time). So it is too big for both of them. I use the sniff technique to separate felid, canid, and ursid scats. Every member of the canid family has that acrid, sharp smell. Pumas and bobcats have a smell just like domestic cats leave in the litter box. Bear scat smells like a musty old cigar. Of all the scents, I prefer bear. If the scat is still there, break it open and see if there is any scent left."

The timeless art of scat identificiation is a stepwise process starting with visual inspection, and usually ending with the sniff test. (The boy scout joke about the taste test is probably fiction, though biologists have shown that there are consistent differences in the pH of dog and cat poop.)

It is a moot point whether Brian lit and smoked the scat to get that cigar smell. But this all goes to show that identifying scats is truly a fine art. Like other paleolithic inventions such as cheese making, brewing, and the barbecue, scat identification is still alive and well in some quarters of modern society.

A Flawed Photo Essay on the Toilet Habits of Br’er Fox

Here's the latest from the camera trap line--look at them in order.

Background: I've been tracking this rascal for several months, and decided the best way to get him on film was to play some mind games with him. I started to use scents--over-ripe beef and pork fat, and more recently the juice from smoked salmon--dabbing these condiments on the old pitch pine log a quarter mile from the house. His first trick, about a month ago, was to defecate (yes, crap) all over the bait. That night the camera battery failed.

He did a repeat performance last night, but again, Murphy's Law proved that if anything can go wrong, IT WILL! As you can see, it was raining, and after the camera took its first splendid picture, a tiny piece of wood in a raindrop splashed up and landed in the middle of the window that covers the camera lens! Even so, you can still tell what he is up to.

Blow-by-blow account (top to bottom)
1:11AM--Fox makes his first appearance. He is annointing his cheeks and neck with the smoked salmon scent I put there.
1:12AM--Fox leaves his calling card with amazing accuracy, hitting a spike I put in the log to hold the bait in place. Note that Murphy's law just kicked in, aaaargggh!
4:18AM--He is back to check out his personal creation.
4:18AM--His parting act is to sprinkle the site with some personal cologne.

The biological point is this: members of the dog family often leave a "calling card" near a site where they find food.