I live in the middle of a dense residential area in a suburban town of 40,000, in Ventura Co., SoCal. I have seen a coyote trotting purposefully down the flood control channel that runs along my back yard fence. Also, in the semi-rural farmland about 7 miles north of town where I used to keep my horse, I have heard 3 separate coyote bands serenading one another in antiphonal chorus. I have chased them across the riding arena throwing rocks at them, and faced one down in a standoff on the trail about a mile from the stables while riding my horse (the coyote backed down first). I have also seen a bobcat strolling along the edge of an avocado orchard on that same trail. Then there is the red-shouldered hawk pair who make their home in the trees surrounding my church, a mile from my home in another densely populated area on a busy street; and I have heard owls hooting back and forth while sitting here typing on my computer. Wildlife persists and accommodates itself to humans whenever it can.
I live in the middle of a dense residential area in a suburban town of 40,000, in Ventura Co., SoCal. I have seen a coyote trotting purposefully down the flood control channel that runs along my back yard fence. Also, in the semi-rural farmland about 7 miles north of town where I used to keep my horse, I have heard 3 separate coyote bands serenading one another in antiphonal chorus. I have chased them across the riding arena throwing rocks at them, and faced one down in a standoff on the trail about a mile from the stables while riding my horse (the coyote backed down first). I have also seen a bobcat strolling along the edge of an avocado orchard on that same trail. Then there is the red-shouldered hawk pair who make their home in the trees surrounding my church, a mile from my home in another densely populated area on a busy street; and I have heard owls hooting back and forth while sitting here typing on my computer. Wildlife persists and accommodates itself to humans whenever it can.