By Dr. Robert Thorson

The management of Connecticut’s coyotes has literally become a dog-eat-dog issue. These wild canids (Canis latrans) have begun to eat our small domesticated canids (Canis lupus), along with an unknown number of house cats. Figuratively, coyote management pits the freedom we want for these sentient beings against the tameness we require for them to live with us apes.

We would not tolerate wolves in our midst because they are too dangerous for our urban and suburban lifestyles. But we happily tolerate the red fox, the sight of which is always a thrill. Coyotes, which resemble lanky German shepherds with longer tufted tails, straddle the boundary between these two wild species, physically and ecologically.

Though most are wary of human contact, some are on the edge of dangerousness. This is especially true for the larger ones that have interbred with Canadian gray wolves, and those that have become “habituated.” This is wildlife management jargon for adaptation to our backyard ecosystems.

Several years ago, four dogs were killed by coyotes along the Connecticut shore. In Old Lyme, a crazed one attacked Seamus Plyer when he was mowing his lawn. What if he had been a toddler? During the last year or two, I’ve begun to see road-killed coyotes, and disappeared pets are increasingly presumed to have been gobbled up.

During this year’s spring breeding season, there were three reported coyote-on-dog attacks in Manchester, and residents were advised to avoid certain areas. In one case, a leashed pit bull/boxer was attacked by a pair of coyotes before the owner beat them off. In Windsor Locks, an unleashed 100-pound dog was mauled by perhaps the same pair. Glastonbury residents have been cautioned against unusually bold animals. Dozens of towns have reported incidents.

This column was prompted by the case of Cliff, a coyote from densely populated Rhode Island. The coyote was to be euthanized last week because he’d gotten too comfortable with people. But public outcry has stayed the execution, for now.

Though native to the high plains and desert basins of the West, coyotes entered New England in the mid-1950s, remained in the western and northern highlands for a few decades and then spread eastward. Until recently, they’ve kept a fairly low profile. Now they’re a noticeable invasive species with superior intelligence.

Cliff’s biography is well known to biologist Numi Mitchell, head of the Narragansett Bay Coyote Study. He was born as part of a litter in April 2015. Last winter, residents of Aquidneck Island in Newport and Middletown began complaining about unusual pack behaviors. Police asked the coyote study to capture and collar Cliff. By spring they learned he had become “almost tame,” having been fed in the densely populated neighborhoods of Newport. After two heart-stopping encounters with female joggers, he was tracked and shot with rubber shotgun pellets to make him fear humans again. This worked for a while, but Cliff was soon back in Newport doing dumpster diving. On several occasions, he was seen hungrily watching schoolchildren wait for the bus.

Is Cliff a wild animal? Technically yes, because he is not being “willed” by human beings. But functionally he’s not because he’s named like a pet, is a social media celebrity, wears a tracking collar and is being fed by residents. To my mind, he’s only slightly wilder than any other hungry feral dog running loose through city neighborhoods.

Rhode Island officials are trying to find him a new home in a zoo. They’d better hurry up