I grew up in the jungles of Suriname, South America--all the way down to the Brazilian border. We lived on the Palomeu River with a tribe of Indians who call themselves Tirio. Once a month a small Cessna flew into our little village with mail, rice, flour, canned goods and other staples.
My brothers and I hunted and fished in the rainforest, and if we weren't successful, there wasn't meat on the table. We grew up appreciating the natural world and the many species other than our own who make it so interesting.
Fast forward to Tucson, AZ. I took this picture in the parking lot of the Old Tucson Studios, located west of Gates Pass at the foot of Golden Gate Mountain. No one feeds these coyotes; they're there from time to time in the monsoon season after a drenching rain because the parking lot dries off while the arroyos are still running and the desert is still wet. They like their creature comforts too.
Our home lies just behind that mountain that you see there--Golden Gate, in the Tucson Mountain wildlife corridor west of the city. Guests in our backyard from time to time include deer, bobcats, Gila monsters, birds of prey, families of Mexican racoons, javelina (look it up) and just once, a juvenile mountain lion.
When we (from the Jersey Shore) were looking for a place to build in Tucson a decade ago, our Realtor took the time to tell us about the wildlife corridor which is now our home. Most realtors are great people. Mary DeKraker was exceptional. We're forever indebted to her.