When they first were brought here, you were not allowed to harm them.
A friend lived in an Angus farmer’s house and he would sit and watch them wait until a cow went down to calve.
Then they would stand there and eat the calf as it was coming out.
The poor cows would cry but there was nothing they could do about it.
So the guy who lived on the farm gathered up some buddies and started to picking them off up on the ridge at night.
After a couple years of this horror show, the DNR “allowed” them to be shot, anytime.
We’ll never be rid of them.
Whenever he spotted one, he would pull a cord inside the truck cab, dropping the doors to the kennel then it was off the races as he drove his truck across the fields in pursuit of the dogs chasing the coyote.....
His favorite dog was a specially bred mix between a greyhound and a Russian wolfhound. It was huge....