Of Coyotes and Corridors

Veto Proof World

Hey, Little Sister

Of Coyotes and Corridors

By Stephen L. Wilmeth

            There is an interesting story that exists because I heard someone near tell it.

            If I hadn’t been there or if the subject had been different, no doubt it would have been lost in time and space. It dealt with another little sister, and, in this case, Little Brownie’s Sister, a little bay mare that, as far as I know, never had her picture taken.

            To begin, there must be a bit of sympathy for the little horse if for no other reason she had no given name to herself. Rather, she existed on this earth known only that she was Little Brownie’s sister. Now, that isn’t necessarily short changing her because no one seems to remember Little Brownie at all, but Little Brownie’s Sister comes to life in a snippet of history.

            Grandpa Wilmeth was a tough fellow.

            Talking to Joe Cannon from just west of Three Way the other day, the same thing was discussed. Mr. Cannon remembers worrying about Grandpa and the horses he rode.

            Many of us know about his temper, too.

            In the Little Brownie’s Sister case, several things triangulated, and the event unfolded. The story goes that Grandpa rode onto a point and could see camp below. Several cowboys were there drinking coffee which probably triggered the initial storm. Irritated the help was taking an unauthorized break probably raised the hair on his neck. The next thing is totally absent in context, but Grandpa apparently reared back and jerked the reins only to break them off at the rein rings.

            “He was notorious for cutting down on the weight of his rig,” was the story teller’s general point of view.

            Very quickly Little Brownie’s Sister came to realize her state of freedom and started off the hill. The truth be known that probably spooked her and two or three lunges into the descent she was in a full-blown runaway.

            I suspect my grandfather’s temper quickly subsided as he was simultaneously sitting deeper and getting a more distant faraway look in his eyes with every jump. It was then the cowboys started focusing on the all the racket coming off the hillside.

            “Give the little horse her head, Albert,” one of the witnesses offered.

            At the point when horse and her passenger hit the bottom of the creek and stormed right through the middle of the camp and on up the opposites hillside, another suggestion was made.

            “If you’re goin’ on to town, Albert, would you mind pickin’ up the mail?”

            Hey, Little Sister

            Essentially, California’s legislature is now veto proof.

            The progressive pilgrims that rule that place have a lasting, and, some think, lock on the demise of one of the greatest resources in the world. To those who have a ringside view of the debacle, most believe the liberal regime has become so radical, the likes of new governor, Newsom, is going to be forced to start projecting warnings that will place him in jeopardy of insurrection from his uber left. Who would have ever fathomed one of the scions from California’s royalty would face such a dilemma?

            The implication is this, too, is a runaway and there is less and less hope for any control at all.

            The question can be asked about who cares, but all of us must care. There are many, many Californians who think just like we do, and their plight will soon become ours. In this case, there is a name and both the former and the latter are known.

California is the big sister, but, more and more, the little sister appears to be … New Mexico.

Of Coyotes and Corridors

New Mexico is well on its way of becoming veto proof, too.

The political water is being tested in every direction, but there are two efforts that should probe the legislative patience of even the most lethargic constituency. The first is the effort to make it illegal to hold coyote killing contests. If anybody believes this is structured to extend empathy to the little wolf, there must be help available somewhere.

This is a first step of a structured elimination of rights where a segment of hunters themselves have been active pawns. If the little wolf gets protected now, all blood sports will be targets in the not so distant future.

You don’t think so?

In one of the studies that has been used to sell the idea of enhancement of access and saving the last great places of the West by public fund purchases, hunting is elevated into one of the outdoor activities that 97.6% of the public says they annually participate. The problem is it is nowhere near the top of the list. The top five most important outdoor activities include walking, family gatherings, viewing nature, visiting a nature center (including zoos), and picnicking.

It isn’t in the middle, either. It is dead last.

Attempts to find the number of Americans who hunt is a crapshoot. The numbers vary from two percent to 11% based on studies. In all cases, the odds of prevailing against a growing antihunting public is a pending exercise in utter cramdown.

The effort to create migration corridors in New Mexico is another test case. The Rewilders must be simply exhilarated at this prospect. The words used are the indicators. All means of human caused barriers shall be removed (for the purpose of natural migrations).

A road, culvert, commercial or residential development or other human made structure that has the potential to affect the natural movement of wildlife across the landscape (must be assessed).

What about an entire town? It certainly fits under the suggestion of a barrier doesn’t it? The cruel point becomes there is no logic, no semblance of our history, or our customs and culture.

We are witnessing the demise of our way of life right in front of our eyes.

Stephen L. Wilmeth is a rancher from southern New Mexico. “!”