Body disposal in the boonies

Every now and then I find myself with a need to dispose of a large dead chicken. I don’t crave meat quite enough to eat road kill, and in the case of Patty, well, that was one sick bird. I ain’t eating her.

Which leaves the problem of body disposal. The ground is mostly either very rocky or very sandy, and I need a better reason for digging in it than getting rid of an inconvenient chicken corpse. So it’s either Geiger Counter Guy’s dumpster, or what I usually do – which is feed the coyotes.

With one notable exception, the coyotes and my little pack have held to a truce: we get our hollow at the bend of the wash, and they can have everything else. Ghost marks the edges of his territory most efficiently, Little Bear lets the world know that territory contains a very large, loud dog, and I watch for signs of trespassers. They’re pretty rare.

When I’ve got dead birds neither I nor the boys are going to eat, I give the coyotes a peace offering. There’s a spot I know, beyond the wide elbow in the wash that contains Ian’s rifle range. It’s downwind of everything, and it starts with a moonscape. First you pass dunes of sand that blow there from the wind that howls down the wash. Then there’s barren hillocks of clay and ash where not even junipers will grow. This is a good long way from the Lair, out of sight of where I leave the Jeep with the boys should they choose to investigate what Uncle Joel did with that nice smelly body.

On the other side of the hillocks is another little hollow. It borders a tributary to the wash, and is relatively lush. It’s quiet and sheltered and far from anywhere humans have built. Here there’s always lots of animal sign. Elk and mule deer come here often. Small animals are common, and of course so are coyote. This is their turf. Even Ghost wisely avoids this place, if tracks mean anything, even though it’s practically on the way to S&L’s where he goes fairly often.

This is where I leave the birds, and I never see a sign of them afterward. My little way of saying “Leave the living ones alone, and I’m not your enemy.” Silly, maybe, I don’t know. The terminally-wounded coyote was my way of saying what happens when they don’t leave the living ones alone, so it all comes out even.