Coyotes chow down in town

On 26th Avenue, in Seattle's Central District, folks are used to the scourges of inner-city life. Drug dealing. Burglaries. Incessant condo construction.

But the other day, someone showed up who shifted the moorings. It left residents buzzing: What kind of civilization are we living in? It began when Mary Maier was jarred awake by a cacophony from the crows. The ruckus drew her outside.

There it stood, looking angular, rangy, foxlike. With a cat hanging from its mouth.

Stunned, Maier chased the coyote up the block. It dropped the cat, then circled back. She could see it in the shadows, lurking, like an apparition in a bad Western movie.

The cat was dead. Maier went inside, wondering what to do. Later, the coyote — and the cat — were gone.

This is the center of a major U.S. city. Skyscrapers loom about a mile away. Yet it's now a hunting ground for wild coyotes, who lope past tapas bars and yoga studios in Madison Park to get there.

Along 26th, heading north from Union, signs on telephone poles hint at the story. Buster, a tawny gray, missing since December. Roses, gone since February. Clarence, a tabby that vanished last month.

Pam Leydon's cat was the one killed last week. She feeds a feral colony (after neutering them). There were once 15 cats. Now there are six.

"I'm shocked," Leydon said. "I had no idea. I guess this is like a coyote restaurant."

It's old hat how wildlife runs amok in the 'burbs. But have you noticed how Seattle has gone native lately?

I live two miles from downtown. We seldom put our parrot outside now, since his cage was attacked by a peregrine falcon. We locked our cat flap after I came face to mask with a raccoon — inside the house, on the stairs to our bedroom.

Most days crows can be seen hassling bald eagles from our back deck. And now the city's gone coyote loco. There have been sightings in Montlake. Beacon Hill. In the Broadmoor gated community!

Tim Quinn, a state biologist, says they're drawn into the city by a surprising lure. Us.

Coyotes like to be around city slickers. We roll out a smorgasbord of snacks, such as cats. Plus we're total patsies.

"You don't pose any threat to the coyotes, at all, in an urban setting," Quinn said. "Nobody's going to persecute them" — i.e., shoot them — "as they might in rural areas like Eastern Washington.

"It's fascinating the coyotes are learning this. They've figured out it pays to go into the densest parts of the city."

No one's sure what to do. Ironically, Mary Maier, who works for King County natural resources, has spent years advising rural landowners that it's they who should yield to the wildlife, not vice versa.

"Now it's come to my front yard," she said. "We either change our behavior substantially or our pets are toast."

Leydon, who saw one of the feral cats kill a squirrel the other day, is more live and let live. Or is it die and let die?

"Cat eats squirrel, coyote eats cat," she said. "It's the new cycle of life in the Central District."

Danny Westneat's column appears Wednesday and Sunday. Reach him at 206-464-2086 or dwestneat@seattletimes.com.