Rich that is a great story. It is amazing that you got that close to such a amazingly stealthy creature.

Here is mine, thereare some fishing references so be warned .


It was mid June, one of those days that fill your dreams all winter. I found my self some were between here and there, covered in bug dope and hoping that tonight would be the night that the river let lose and its surface boiled with rising fish. I was fishing a spot I call Skunk Hole, it is a fast deep run at the end of a mile long section of slow frog water. I will spare you all the fishing details, what you need to know is this is my place, passed down to me from my old man. I feel more at home here then I do in my own living room.
I had just landed a small brook trout and was putting on a new fly, when out of the corner of my eye I picked up some movement. Up stream, about 20 yards from me, on an outcropping of rocks sat a coyote pup. He stood under a foot at the shoulders and still had the fluffy coat of a young dog. The brave or dumb little devil was in no way worried about me, he just sat on his back lags and watched me go about my business.
I returned to my fishing and tried to only glance now and then to see if he was still there. This went on for around and hour, I fished and he watched, he occasionally bent down to take a drink of water. The fishing was slow and my attention span is short so after loosing a fly to the other bank I decided to see how bold this little guy was. I set my pole down and stated to make my way slowly towards the little dog. To my surprise he didn’t even stand up he just sat there, carefully watching my every step. I closed the distance to around ten feet and he still never moved. I figured this was close enough, so I sat down on the bank and opened the coke I had in my vest. This is when the little guy did something I never expected, he threw his head back and let out a series of howls and yips that lasted for about a minute. I have never laughed so hard in my life.
There we both sat for a good 15 minuts watching each other and the river, I don’t know what he was doing there and he probable couldn’t figure why I was there, but for that few hours we just seemed to just get along. I didn’t fish much that night, I figured I could fish any day but how many time will I be able to share a drink with a yote. I finished my pop and stud up, off in the distance I could here his family let out. His ears twitched, he stud up and clumsily made his way into the dark swamp. The rest of the trip out in my canoe I listened to the pack as the came together for there night hunt.
They only one I told about this was my Dad. As I told him his eyes got big and when I was done he said “you may not believe this, but about 12 years ago I was fishing that same run and had a small yote watch me fish from that same rock outcropping.” To this day I still can’t believe it happened and when I am fishing that magical spot I always look up from my fishing devotions to see if I have any company. It has never happened to me since, and somthing tells me it will never happen agin.