The Beauty of Coyote Communication

Understanding wild messages

[To get the most out of this Love the Wild, I suggest that you first watch the coyotes communicating in the brief video and then read the story below.]

While hiking in snowy Yellowstone along a river one winter, Mary and I stumbled upon some coyotes sharing a meal. The coyotes were on the other side of the river, about 150 yards away, and downwind. Surprised and not wanting to spook them, we stopped in our tracks and hid behind a juniper on a hill. Peering from behind the tree, we whispered to each other of our joy and excitement at this wild encounter.

We’ve seen many Yellowstone coyotes—that winter, they seemed particularly abundant. But this was the first time we had been lucky enough to watch a group interact. Old-timers in Yellowstone say that before wolves were reintroduced into the park in 1995, coyotes hunted and travelled in packs. But with the return of wolves, coyotes now usually hunt alone or in pairs. This is how these intelligent canids adapted to wolves—much larger animals that will eliminate careless coyote competitors.

After a few moments, Mary and I had calmed down enough to grasp that this interaction would be great to video and study later. We sat down in the snow. Mary grabbed the camera, zoomed the lens, and started videoing. The coyotes eventually caught our scent but put up with our presence. About 45 minutes later—having eaten their fill—they retreated to the sage to rest and digest. The ravens and magpies that had been chattering and pilfering the carcass in between diners moved in with gusto. Giving in to our chill, we left the canids and corvids, snuck out the way we had come, and rushed home to warm up and download footage.

I sent a copy of this video to our friend, Lesley Sampson, the founding executive director of Coyote Watch Canada, a national advocacy organization. Lesley had written her Honours thesis on canid behavior and devised a coding system for recording and analyzing behavior. She has observed coyotes for years as she has helped Canadians coexist with them. I figured she could help me understand what the video captured.

I spent an hour on the phone to Lesley in Ontario. We went through the video again and again, stopping at specific moments to study, analyze, and remark on the incredible range of subtle behaviors and effective non-verbal communication. Here’s what I learned. 

First, Lesley was certain that we couldn’t tell whether the coyote initially entering this short segment of the video is male or female. For ease of writing, I’ll call that coyote the entrant. Second, Lesley was certain that these coyotes were related in some way. I’ll use the term family, which Lesley prefers instead of the term pack. Finally, she, like many other wildlife biologists, no longer uses the term alpha.

As the entrant approaches and then places its front paws on the snow-covered log, its ears are already moving downward. Once the entrant steps over the log and moves toward the other coyotes, its head goes down, the guard hairs along the spine come up, and it progresses into what we call an “alligator move” (mouth open, jaws clicking, back arched, tail tucked, legs stiff). The guard hairs being up, says Lesley, is a physiological response to tension. 

We see the first member of this family respond to the entrant. Lesley points out that this family member “has Its tail is between its legs, guard hairs are up, ears are down, and mouth is open. But it’s not facing the coyote that is walking toward it.” She says that in the past a tail between the legs would be called “submissive” behavior. Since both coyotes have tails between their legs, that position is more likely a way of protecting a vulnerable area rather than showing submission.

The family member moves away, keeping its rear toward the oncoming coyote. “Notice,” says Lesley, “that there is no contact, no biting, no harm done.” The entering coyote, she says, has sent a message: “Look, you know who I am. You’re not going to bother me. And I’m not going to bother you. I’m here now and I’m going to eat.” The retreating family member received and accepted the communication.

The entrant continues its alligator walk toward another family member. This member opens its mouth, bares its teeth, and approaches the entrant head on. While that behavior seems more aggressive, there is still no fighting, no biting. The family member jumps out of the away at the last moment and the entrant does not chase.  

Instead, the entrant turns and heads directly toward the family member feeding on the carcass in the river. Lesley points out that the coyote at the carcass is facing the entrant and other family members. “That coyote,” she says, “has been watching the whole interaction.”

The entrant leaps from the bank toward the feeding coyote. And again, no biting, no fighting. Instead, the feeding coyote leaps off the carcass and to the bank with a morsel in its mouth. “If that coyote had been afraid or ready to fight, it would have dropped the food,” Lesley says.

As the family member runs away, the entrant immediately starts eating. “He doesn’t even turn to look and see where the other coyote went.” To Lesley the interactions we’ve watched with the three coyotes solidify her belief that the entrant is a respected member with some standing in this family.

With the entrant now feeding, Lesley turns her attention to the other family members. One coyote comes in from the left and rushes by a family member that then sits in the snow. That sitter, says Lesley, has communicated to the rusher: “I’m here, but I’m not looking for trouble.”

The rusher continues on toward the carcass, stops on the bank, and appears to be considering moving in on the carcass. But instead, it retreats up the bank without engaging the entrant. 

Lesley points out that the entrant feeding on the carcass is still ignoring the four coyotes on the bank. If those four wanted to communicate that they did not care to share the food and wanted that entrant gone, they have the numbers to convey that message. But they make no such move. 

Instead, one of the four stands off to the side while the other three come together. A tail wags, ears go higher. One of the three sits down, then another drives its muzzle into the snow. After pulling its muzzle from the snow it rushes toward the coyote that had sat. That coyote raises its right front paw and gives snowy face a light brush off that looks to Lesley like a gentle, “Get lost. Don’t bother me.” A message one sibling might give another. Snowy face gets the message, stops the charge, drops its head, and stands close beside its family member. 

All this coyote communication occurs using a language composed of sight, sounds, smells, and touches. They learned that language as they grew up, watching and interacting with mom, dad, siblings, and other family members. “One thing for sure,” says Lesley, “their understanding of their language is incredible.”

To show just how incredible and unique these coyotes are, Lesley ends our call by quoting from author and naturalist Henry Beston.

“We need another and a wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals…For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with the extension of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings: they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth.”

Thanks for joining me in this Love the Wild! If you haven’t yet subscribed, I hope you’ll do so. It’s free and brings a Love the Wild letter to your inbox each week. In addition to videos such as this one, you’ll enjoy a variety of podcasts, photo essays, stories inspired by photos, commentaries, excerpts from my books and more. With each, I hope to warm your heart and excite your mind as we share moments with wildlife and in wild lands.

I write and photograph to protect wildlife and preserve wild lands. My bestselling In the Temple of Wolves; its sequel, Deep into Yellowstone; and its prequel, The Wilds of Aging are available signed. My books are also available on Amazon unsigned or as eBook or audiobook.