The true story of the young coyote who was chased by crows and ended up quivering in a downtown Seattle building.
He was a young coyote who found himself on First Avenue in downtown Seattle.
Suddenly, divebombing crows went after him.
What else could he do, but try and find shelter in an office building?
This is the true story of what happened at around noon on Dec. 3, 1997.
After our recent story of how coyotes won the battle of turf — and now are our neighbors whether we live in the city or country — numerous readers emailed their own stories.
Marsha Milroy, former news researcher at the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, and attorney Bob Gibbs, were among those remembering the 1997 incident.
If coyotes are found in Chicago and Manhattan, why not in our downtown? They’ve certainly managed to make themselves at home in our other neighborhoods.
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Maybe he had wandered down the railroad tracks. Maybe he lived in a den by the waterfront.
In any case, if cars weren’t enough, now crows had decided to stalk the 30-pound coyote.
The panicked coyote ran down First Avenue and into the Henry M. Jackson Federal Building, through a door that automatically opened, past security guards.
“It was just a frantic, wild animal — bouncing off the glass and everything,” one of the guards was quoted in a Seattle Times story.
Then the coyote ran into an empty elevator.
Building workers took the elevator out of service, and there sat the animal.
For two hours.
The General Services Administration wasn’t sure whom to call, and then there was the problem of telling the Seattle Animal Shelter “that they weren’t joking,” says the story.
A lot of conferencing.
By then, as is fitting with a story like this, a guy who went by “Crazy Bob Jones” also arrived.
He was a volunteer with the Sarvey Wildlife Center in Arlington, and his life’s mission was rescuing stranded and hurt animals.
Jones died a number of years ago, says the center, but he was profiled in a 1999 Seattle Times story.
Crazy Bob decided he would deal with the panicked coyote by joining him in the elevator.
“I talked to him. I petted him. He lay down. I picked him up and brought him out,” he remembered.
The coyote was put in a cage and the state’s Fish & Wildlife Department released it into the woods near North Bend.
Crazy Bob said he preferred the company of animals.
“Animals are a lot more honest, a lot more straightforward, and a lot more dignified,” he said.