An ancient Hebrew text prophesies that one day the “…the wolf will live the the lamb, the leopard with the calf and a little child will lead them.”
But what about the coyote and the nine-banded armadillo?
In Southeast Texas, armadillos are regular prey items for coyotes, however in this series of videos filmed by naturalist Mark Hines it is obvious this coyote and an armadillo have a bit of a friendship going.
The first two videos are from the same day but the third is nearly a month later. There have been numerous cases of predators interacting with prey in playful fashion but this is the first time we have seen this with a coyote and armadillo.
This is a fairly young coyote that Hines has captured on video many times but it is with a pack that includes mature individuals that live in the same relatively small area. That implies that all of the coyotes are tolerating the armadillo that as of yet has not met its demise, at least not on camera.
Hines has captured some captivating videos over the last few years that show a side to not only coyotes but some animals we believe have strong red wolf genetics (coywolves if you will) doing some pretty incredible things.
We will be sharing some of these videos in the coming months and giving a look at these animals in an area where few studies have been conducted on the species.
Many believe the coyote is the most adaptable mammal in North America and as someone who has had many dealings with them, including the group in Hine’s videos I concur.
They are truly intelligent creatures that can survive in the shadow of many and apparently in the presence of armadillos as well.
You never know what you’re going to see traveling through the Texas Hill Country at night.
Geoffrey Bennett submitted these photos (after posting on his Facebook) of an animal his brother saw and was able to capture these images of as it climbed a rock wall.
Exact location has not been given nor would we give it but it’s safe to say it is in the beautiful limestone-encrusted Edwards Plateau.
On the initial posts several people chimed in with thoughts including jaguarundi, ringtail and lemur.
It’s definitely not a ringtail or lemur.
Jaguarundi was my first thought at seeing the photo below but after seeing the next one in the series I am convinced this is a kinkajou (Potus flavus). These rainforest dwellers are the only member of the genus “Potos” and are sometimes called a “honey bear”.
The tail is what tipped me off. Kinkajous have a prehensile (climbing/gripping able) tail and this one is curled up. I have a kinkajou at our Kingdom Zoo: Wildlife Center and his named is “Irwin”.
His tail is always curled up.
Plus the body and head just look kinkajou and if you look close enough you can see what looks like a collar.
If this is a kinkajou, what is it doing in the Texas Hill Country?
They are common animals at zoos and wildlife parks and are not a rare pet. In fact, for those who like exotics they make a much smaller and generally safer pet than say a lion.
My suspicion this is someone’s pet that escaped.
What do you think of the identify of this cool-looking animal?
Post your comments below.
Have you seen anything like this? We’d love to see the photos.
We appreciate Mr. Bennett giving us access to these pics and sharing this unique encounter with us wildlife lovers.
Those are the ingredients necessary to allow wildlife to reach maximum size.
Without the genetic code animals don’t have the capacity for super size. Without food and cover it is impossible to feed their potential. And without reaching the optimal age, it is all a moot point.
These three factors are the reason why gigantic feral hogs will become the apex predator in many American cities.
Feral hogs have entered the city limits of many cities in the American South and are becoming major problems for animal control, homeowners, golf course managers and park superintendents.
There are no doubt hogs in cities like Houston, Orlando and others major cities right now with the potential to outgrow the average grizzly bear.
Greenbelts as well as abandoned lots, dumps and other open areas provide adequate nutrition.
And then there is the age factor.
Once hogs enter cities there is virtually no way to control them.
Trapping has very limited effectiveness. Shooting them under virtually every circumstance is off limits for obvious reasons. No one will have the stomach to allow hunters with trained curs and pit bulls to capture/kill them and poisoning (where legal) is not going to be possible due to dangers to pets and people.
So, when that hog with the genes to be a giant enters a city, it has everything else it needs to do just that.
These hogs will do massive damage to everything they put their snout to and will pose a danger to people and their pets. Hogs are most fond of plant material but they can and often do prey on live animals.
That means “Fifi” the poodle could be on the menu when her doting mother takes her for a walk in the park.
Such hogs already exist and have for years but as hogs numbers continue to skyrocket even the urban areas in the feral hog’s range that have had no swine migration will see them move in.
Early in my writing career I got some revealing intel on such animals. The first was almost a face to snout encounter.
When taking my girlfriend (now wife) Lisa out on a date at a seafood restaurant we heard something step out of the cane just behind us in the parking lot.
As we fixed our eyes toward the racket a huge mud-covered animal emerged.
At first in the dim light at the back end of the parking lot I thought it was a young steer as cattle are common in any pasture, wood lot or in the case chunk of marsh next to the restaurant.
But it was no steer.
This was a hog, one that weighed well beyond 500 pounds.
It grunted heavily when it saw us (we were only 10 steps away) and then went on about its business of rooting up the ground.
The area the animal came from is a piece of marsh probably in the 300 acre range next to a large refinery facility. This is bordered by a large chip channel and a whole bunch of industrial buildings and homes.
Obviously that huge hog, perhaps a domestic set free to graze years ago as used to be common in Texas had found its nice. It does not take hogs much time to go back to their wild origins and integrate into purely feral populations.
This was not the only time I came across evidence of monster hogs in the area.
Around the same time, a man told me had located a really big black boar in a wood lot behind the Vidor, TX Wal Mart and wanted to know if I wanted to tag along with he and his dogs to catch it.
Two weeks later a letter arrives in the mail with a photo of the hog they killed, all 400 pounds of it. I later drove by the area to inspect and saw the 20 acre wood lot the beast had lived in amongst a city of 10,000.
As hogs push deeper into urban territory, certain individuals will find these sanctuary areas that will allow them to grow to epic proportions.
It will be important to educate the public on these animals with a very special emphasis on not feeding them. Feral hogs are bad enough but feral hogs without any hunting pressure who know humans feed them will eventually turn to animals that approach people.
And at some point someone will get hurt, maybe killed.
I have written extensively on hog attacks and they are more common than many might suspect.
Having been chased up a tree on two occasions by wild hogs both in Texas and Tennessee, I can attest being on the side of their wrath is a frightening thing.
We should always use caution when hogs are around and realize some of them tend to be more Hannibal Lecter than Porky the Pig.
I once walked into the mouth of an old railroad tunnel.
Covered in vines and decaying it looked a bit ominous, even from a distance.
Many years previous trains would cut through as they winded through the limestone encrusted hills of the Edwards Plateau in Central Texas.
Now the tunnel is home to more than a million of Mexican free tail baits.
Passing by during the day or even walking nearby one would never know of their presence unless they maybe caught a sniff of the guano (bat dung).
But at night, these bats exit the tunnel and travel into the darkness in pursuit of insects and they return before dawn.
In the 1800s, a network of safe houses and secret routes called the “Underground Railroad” saw thousands of African American slaves find their way to freedom out of states where slavery was legal.
Thinking about the tunnel reminded me there is an underground network of sorts for animals, paths in which they can travel without the system taking notice.
The animals themselves of course are not aware of it although by sheer instinct they use it to their advantage.
It is a mindset in the culture of wildlife viewing, academia, media coverage and the hunting and fishing community that things with wildlife are supposed to go “by the book” and anything challenging the official narrative is ignored outright assailed.
In 2002, I spent a day in the field in the Pearl River Wildlife Management Area in Louisiana with researchers David Luneau and Martian Lammertink in search of the ivory-billed woodpecker, a species at the time considered extinct. Zeiss Sports Optics sponsored a truly rare look at a species often reported but believed long gone.
We never saw any ivory bills but I saw two men intent on at least searching out what could be an incredibly important find.
In 2004, Luneau obtained a video in Arkansas that the US Fish and Wildlife Service itself considers to be an ivory bill-a previously though extinct bird.
It goes along with other recordings and research suggesting there are a few ivory bills out there. However, the official narrative is the species is still lost.
Many don’t want to touch the topic with a 10 foot pole.
Did they ever exist anyway?
That’s what many act like.
And its this very lack of “official” interest that allows such species to hide in the shadows beyond the attention of those who can verify and perhaps save certain ones.
Most scientists tow the line on mysterious wildlife because their careers are centered on grants and anything outside the norm might rock the financial boat too much.
The hunting and fishing community dodges controversial wildlife topics for fear of government intervention especially in relation to the Endangered Species Act.
Amateur naturalists are quick to skip over the mysterious for fear of public ridicule and loss of access to property.
And the media doesn’t really care unless they can spin it into the next viral story, often shaming those who are dare to question things or belittling the off the wall topics altogether.
I am too curious to ignore the stories that require stepping into the shadows. I crave the opportunity to pursue mysteries of the wildlife kind-controversial or not.
Growing up in the 80s, the intro to syndicated horror anthology series Tales from the Darkside used to terrify me.
That is terrify me enough to watch.
Man lives in the sunlit world of what he believes to be reality. But… there is, unseen by most, an underworld, a place that is just as real, but not as brightly lit… a Darkside. (Series Intro)
I won’t call the animal underground a “dark side” in terms of evil but it certainly not as brightly lit as what most see.
A couple of days ago I came across a project called “I am Somebody” from fourth grade.
It was an exercise in challenging us to state who we are and who we wanted to become in life.
I don’t remember this project and I have not seen it since I did it back in 1984 but what I found in it reminded me that a dream of working with wildlife that became a vision later in life started long ago.
When asked to draw a picture or cut out and paste of picture of what I wanted to be when I grew up I chosen article from National Geographic showing a researcher with a leopard seal.
I would like to be a scientist because I would like to maybe find a way to stop water pollution or discover a new animal. I would like to be a wildlife biologist.
I ended up studying journalist in school and later zoology and have since I was in high school pursued wildlife journalism. It’s amazing a little boy with a big dream got to live it in a little different way.
The assignment also had a section called “If I Were…”
If I were an animal I would like to be a grizzly bear so I could be the strongest animal in the forest.
Not much has changed on that front although I would probably tell you a jaguar for the answer now-the strongest cat in the forest.
The reason for this post is to inspire you to follow the vision you have for your life. My advice is to seek God, receive revelation on your life and pursue that with everything you have.
I am no one special but I have been able to do many special things in regards to wildlife. There is no reason you can’t do the same thing.
I plan on doing many more special things with wildlife in the next 25 years and beyond and want to inspire you to seek out your WILDEST dreams.
I will probably never become a grizzly but I just might get an up close and personal photo one of one of these magnificent creatures.
Besides the booze, the draw was a pair of Bengal tigers sitting on a small slab across from the bar.
It is hard to imagine that at some point, this was considered a good idea but it had been open for several years and by the amount of bottles in the trash can outside, they had a few patrons.
Our mission was to rescue a young black bear illegally imported into Texas and being kept in the bar.
A game warden had contacted Monique Woodard of the Exotic Cat & Wildlife Refuge in Kirbyville, TX to see if she would take the bear and she got my frequent cohort and wildlife photographer Gerald Burleigh and I to come along.
My job was to dart the bear if it got belligerent so we could put it in the crate to ride to Kirbyville in the back of my truck. Gerald was thereto document the day with his unique style of photography.
The tigers despite being in a small area looked healthy but the bear on the other hand was quite scruffy. Weighing about 80 pounds, she was probably around six months old and despite her small size she could have taken out all of us. Bears are extremely powerful.
We walked up to the enclosure and the bear stood up on its hind legs.
Before risking darting the animal, we put the extra large pet porter next to the door of the cage and Monique reached into her bag and pulled out a Twinkie.
She held it up to the nose of the bear which at this point was standing at the door and she had me open it. She then threw the Twinkie into the porter and the bear went right in.
On the way home, somewhere around Baytown on Interstate 10, the bear which at this point had been named “Gigi” pounded on the bed of my truck.
We pulled over to see what was wrong and Monique said she was hungry so she gave her a few more Twinkies from the box.
This happened three more times before getting to Kirbyville where she had the very last Twinkie in her big new enclosure.
Gigi was a real treat and ended up being a big draw to the refuge and a gigantic blessing to our lives.
Chester Moore, Jr.
For a moment, it seemed as if I were in a bizarre, fever-induced nightmare, descending deeper and deeper into murky blackness.
Life and death hung in the balance as I struggled to make it toward the light above but my captor was powerful. Effort seemed futile as it pulled with unbelievable strength until suddenly something gave and I broke free.
Rocketing to the surface toward the boat I was pulled from, I gave everything to get back in.
A huge beast with razor sharp teeth had just taken me on a trip into 40 degree, 50-foot deep water. Drowning, hypothermia and bleeding to death were all likely scenarios but an even stronger force led me to the light.
Back in 1997, I was running a trotline in a deep hole in the Sabine River. My cousin Frank Moore and I had trotlines about 200 yards apart and had been catching a few blue catfish.
This was in the middle of winter and we were targeting huge blue catfish. In previous days I had several large hooks straightened and had visions of 75-pound blues in my mind.
As I went to check my line, I noticed most it was not parallel to the shore but drifting out across the deep, instead of on the edge. The line had been cut (or so I thought).
Immediately not so kind words flowed through my mouth to whoever cut the line but then as I started to pull it in something happened.
The line moved!
I pulled in a little more and felt great weight at the end of the line and soon realized I had a seven-foot long alligator garfish on my line. In the Moore family, gar trump blue cats any day of the week so I was excited and even more so when I saw the huge gar barely moving.
Gar will often drown on trotlines (seriously) and this one looked a little worse for the wear so I though it would be easy pickings.
I pulled the line up to the beast, hooked my gaff under the only soft spot on the fish, which is directly below the jaw. I jammed it in there good to make sure it would hold and to see how lively the fish was. It literally did not budge. The fish was alive but did not seem lively.
I then took a deep breath, mustered up all the strength I had since this was a 200-pound class fish and heaved the gar into the boat. That is when the big fish woke up.
It pulled back with full force and all of a sudden I found myself headed down into 30 feet of water with the gar. In an instant I realized one of the other hooks on the trotline had caught in my shoe and I was now attached to 200 pounds of toothy fury.
I had just enough time to take a breath and went under.
All I could focus on was getting back to the surface and toward the light. I am not sure how deep I went but according to my cousin who was just down the shore from me, I did not stay under very long. A 200-pound gar and a 200-pound young man snapped the lead on the line but the hook amazingly remained in my shoe as a reminder I was very near death.
Bringing the line into the boat was a mistake on my part. Nearly a fatal one. They should always be checked on the side of the boat.
More philosophically, thinking back to that moment enveloped in a cold darkness and looking up to the light would foreshadow what would happen in my life in years to come.
There was much more living to do. I just had to reach to the light-the Light of the World to be set free.
That statement was among the first comments on the photo of a manatee stranded in Tampa Bay as Hurricane Irma sucked water out of that vast ecosystem.
It would be easy to pass that off as a typical Internet idiot stirring trouble but when you look at the profile and see it was an adult male who made the comment and followed up with other disturbing quotes you see something is very wrong here.
This was not a non-indigenous feral hog that displaces native wildlife or a game animal like a whitetail deer or wild turkey that are hunted and eaten by licensed hunters. It was a manatee-a gentle giant of the seagrass flats.
It was a manatee-a highly protected species.
The “kill the manatee” comments (and others like it circulating on the Web) are reminiscent of the dolphin shooting I covered in Texas in 2015.
Two teenage boys actually shot a dolphin, one that was disillusioned after wandering into freshwater nonetheless with a fishing arrow.
That killing probably made some of the people I dealt with in the Texas flounder regulation debate back in 2008 happy.
This is an actual regulatory suggestion I got from someone and my reply.
“They are always out there in the passes flipping those flounder out of the water and eating them. The dolphins are getting more populous and they eat more flounder than we ever kill, so we should enact some dolphin population control.”
“So, you’re saying we should shoot Flipper to save the flounder?,” I asked.
“Yes, pretty much.”
Somehow the idea of setting up dolphin sharpshooters in our bays and passes did not seem like it would fly with not only the public but wildlife managers.
“Come to the Texas coast where we blew away 500 dolphins last year!”
Not exactly good Chamber of Commerce material, is it?
Soon however, the tide turned away from dolphin eradication to redfish annihilation
“There are just too many redfish. They are eating all of the baby flounder. That is why flounder numbers are down.”
This is reminiscent of the late 1990s when commercial fishermen in Louisiana tried to get gill and strike nets legalized for redfish once again because the reds were “wiping out the crabs.”
A decline in blue crab numbers could not possibly have been related to the insane number of crab traps set in Bayou State waters but had to have been redfish, which as far as we know have been co-existing with crabs forever.
At the end of the day those who kill protected animals (or fantasize about doing so) do it because they want to.
They choose to do so.
But I wonder what contributing factors are at play.
Is it a rural version of the mall fights and other random violence we have seen in larger cities or some kind of other pent up anger?
Is it the hardened stance against anything labeled “green” or “environmental” or “endangered” that is pervasive in sectors of the hunting community?
I can’t tell you how many people have told me jokes about spotted owl and whooping crane gumbo I have been told over the years.
There is probably no way to tell but it needs to stop and a true respect for all wildlife needs to be front and center.
We need as a community of outdoors lovers to rebuild the platform by which we teach conservation to the young and instill pride in the fact that we have incredible wildlife resources here and that taking beyond what the law offers depletes them.
We need to use these shameful moments as teachable ones and talk about consequence.
I have swam with manatees in the Crystal River in Florida three times and they were some of the most amazing experiences of my life.
I also grew up deer, duck and hog hunting.
Yet somehow I have never wanted to kill a manatee or a bald eagle or a dolphin.
It is because I was brought up to respect the resource and only take what I could eat. The idea of someone chuckling at the plight of a manatee sickens me.
Part of it is because I love these great animals but even more so I am troubled over a public where comments like that end up turning to actions like the aforementioned dolphin shot by Texas teens.
We have to move forward with conservation and a deep respect for wildlife and shame those who want to destroy it.
Wise stewardship should be celebrated whether its enacted by Ducks Unlimited or the Save the Manatee group.
Wildlife needs our help and thankfully the stranded manatee got it.
The keyboard warrior who wanted to kill one was probably too busy surfing the Web in his mother’s basement, living the kind of pathetic life trolls live.
The average elevation of Big Pine Key off the mainland coast of Florida is three feet.
Early reports of storm surge from Hurricane Irma hitting Big Pine Key is 10 feet.
Big Pine Key is home to the majority of the federally endangered key deer, the smallest subspecies of whitetail and it is headquarters of National Key Deer Refuge.
Key Deer have had a rough go of it in the last couple of years.
“While there had been no screwworm outbreaks in the U.S. for the past 30 years, one began last July (2016) on Big Pine Key, which affected the Keydeer population,” said Dr. Roel Lopez, institute director and co-principal investigator for the Keydeer study, San Antonio, a project of Texas A&M University.
Last year screwworms infested the population, which is spread across more than 20 islands. It has led to 135 Keydeer deaths, including 83 that were euthanized to reduce the risk of further infection.
“This was a significant blow to a species of which is uniquely located in that area and has an estimated population of just 875,” said Lopez, who noted the mortalities were chiefly among adult males.
We will be contacting officials with the key deer study as well as at National Key Deer Refuge to monitor what is happening with the species.
A 10 foot surge could have serious consequences to all wildlife of the keys but the key deer is the most vulnerable. And they have already been hit by a severe (proportionally speaking) screwworm outbreak.
Mid-day Monday we found a report at the Miami Herald about the species.
Dan Clark superintendent of the National Key Deer Refuge, said his first priority as the massive storm approached was to evacuate National Wildlife Refuge personnel assigned to the area.
“After we receive information from Monroe County that it is safe to return and we can inhabit the Lower Keys, a post-storm assessment of our facilities and residences will be conducted to determine if we can operate,” Clark said.
As we get updates we will keep you updated.
Chester Moore, Jr.
Cutting-edge wildlife writings and investigations.