Can coyotes and bears be friends? An Altadena odd couple has neighbors talking
First introduced to the public via a clip posted to social media by the Altadena Sheriff's Station, the duo have been spotted together multiple times, munching on garbage and patrolling the foothill streets left mostly desolate by the Eaton fire in January.
While seeing a bear or coyote isn't abnormal in Altadena, observing them together is surprising, says L.A. County Sheriff's Deputy Andrew Garza, whose partner took the video of the unlikely pair when they responded to a call about the bear in late June. 'They were kind of just walking and hanging out together, which was really interesting,' he says. 'I think that because of the fires, both animals have lost their natural habitat so they're down here looking for water and food, but seeing them together painted this picture of them being just two friends, trying to get along and checking out the neighborhood.'
Altadena resident Raimy Rosenduft says she captured the pair a week or so later on her front door camera (experts believe it's the same couple). In her clip, the bear and the coyote are seemingly enjoying the spoils of a spilled garbage can, surveying the neighborhood while they weigh their next move.
While wildlife experts say it's understandable that viewers may see the clips and think 'check out this pair of cute, furry best friends,' they're quick to note that what's going on between the two species seems to indicate more toleration than affection.
'You can humanize your dog or your cat, but I think even that's a stretch,' says Steve Searles, a wildlife expert and author who Animal Planet once dubbed 'The Bear Whisperer.' 'Thinking that these animals love you or each other the way that you love them just isn't based on reality or fact. I don't want to burst anyone's bubble, but it's that kind of thinking that gets someone — either a person or more likely an animal — killed.'
There's a less sentimental explanation for the team-up, Searles says. Back when he was working as a wildlife officer in Mammoth Lakes in the 1990s, Searles says he often saw coyotes sleeping outside bear dens. (Coyotes have also been spotted alongside bears in Burbank, although in seemingly less friendly circumstances, among other places.) 'It was like they were just waiting for the bear to wake up and go to work, because it was more economical for them to travel with the bear during its nightly route,' Searles explains. While bears are typically seen as apex predators, he says, black bears — the only wild bears left in California — are actually vegetarian-leaning omnivores, eating far more grass, tubers, roots and berries than meat. Coyotes, on the other hand, are opportunistic eaters, chowing down on whatever crosses their paths. Following a bear, who'll knock over a garbage can to lick out a discarded jar of peanut butter but may ignore chicken bones, could be a win for the smaller animal.
Unless a black bear has cubs with it or is looking to mate, Searles says, they won't really pay the coyote much mind. 'Everybody's used to seeing grizzlies on TV catching salmon out of the air at the top of some waterfall, but black bears are one of the laziest animals on the planet,' he explains. 'They just want to walk around on your lawn, eating grass or daisies or other non-indigenous species of plants. It's just plain easier. They don't want to run for anything if they can help it.'
Bear ecologist Chris Morgan says that, while he wouldn't use the word 'lazy' to describe black bears, he would absolutely call them efficient. 'Like all bears, they're out for the biggest number of calories for the least amount of effort.'
Even if the pairing is less 'buddy animal movie' and more biological imperative, that doesn't mean seasoned wildlife observers haven't found something interesting in the footage.
Eric Strauss, the executive director of the Loyola Marymount Center for Urban Resilience, says his group has studied coyotes in urban environments extensively. Still, he says, he's never seen a coyote with a bear. 'I'm an old scientist, but still this kind of stuff never stops being delightful,' Strauss says. 'We might think we have everything figured out, but the beauty of science is that you have to prepare to be surprised.'
Observing the pair may help scientists understand more about how animals respond to trauma, like the Eaton fire that destroyed both homes and wildlife habitat. 'In the same way that fire is traumatic to humans, fire is traumatic to social animals,' Strauss says. 'A lot of these social animals, like coyotes, probably lost their partners or lost their offspring and are, to some degree, still in shock. Most social animals are able to experience all the emotions that humans do. They don't necessarily show it the same way, but I think knowing that creates a bond between us. These animals might still be wild, but, really, we're not as different as we would like to think we are.'
In Altadena, where bear murals already dotted local stores before the fire, that sort of connection can feel extra special. Greg Mann, who's lived in Altadena for about 30 years and who's posted his bear sightings on the local Reddit page, says when he returned to his home in the Canyon Crest neighborhood earlier this spring, the area felt deserted, not just by people but by animals as well.
'Everything was so silent. There weren't a lot of people back and it was pitch black at nighttime,' he says. 'We weren't seeing any signs of wildlife and [my wife and I] were really concerned because the fire had traveled so quickly so we just weren't sure how all the animals had fared. But then we started getting deer in our yard again and other animals, and every single time a new animal comes through, it just feels so hopeful. Little by little, it feels like things are starting to get back to the way they should be.'
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Los Angeles Times
19-07-2025
- Los Angeles Times
Can coyotes and bears be friends? An Altadena odd couple has neighbors talking
Altadenans are no strangers to animal sightings — there are peacocks and parrots aplenty around town — but news of a coyote and black bear palling around town together recently has locals talking. First introduced to the public via a clip posted to social media by the Altadena Sheriff's Station, the duo have been spotted together multiple times, munching on garbage and patrolling the foothill streets left mostly desolate by the Eaton fire in January. While seeing a bear or coyote isn't abnormal in Altadena, observing them together is surprising, says L.A. County Sheriff's Deputy Andrew Garza, whose partner took the video of the unlikely pair when they responded to a call about the bear in late June. 'They were kind of just walking and hanging out together, which was really interesting,' he says. 'I think that because of the fires, both animals have lost their natural habitat so they're down here looking for water and food, but seeing them together painted this picture of them being just two friends, trying to get along and checking out the neighborhood.' Altadena resident Raimy Rosenduft says she captured the pair a week or so later on her front door camera (experts believe it's the same couple). In her clip, the bear and the coyote are seemingly enjoying the spoils of a spilled garbage can, surveying the neighborhood while they weigh their next move. While wildlife experts say it's understandable that viewers may see the clips and think 'check out this pair of cute, furry best friends,' they're quick to note that what's going on between the two species seems to indicate more toleration than affection. 'You can humanize your dog or your cat, but I think even that's a stretch,' says Steve Searles, a wildlife expert and author who Animal Planet once dubbed 'The Bear Whisperer.' 'Thinking that these animals love you or each other the way that you love them just isn't based on reality or fact. I don't want to burst anyone's bubble, but it's that kind of thinking that gets someone — either a person or more likely an animal — killed.' There's a less sentimental explanation for the team-up, Searles says. Back when he was working as a wildlife officer in Mammoth Lakes in the 1990s, Searles says he often saw coyotes sleeping outside bear dens. (Coyotes have also been spotted alongside bears in Burbank, although in seemingly less friendly circumstances, among other places.) 'It was like they were just waiting for the bear to wake up and go to work, because it was more economical for them to travel with the bear during its nightly route,' Searles explains. While bears are typically seen as apex predators, he says, black bears — the only wild bears left in California — are actually vegetarian-leaning omnivores, eating far more grass, tubers, roots and berries than meat. Coyotes, on the other hand, are opportunistic eaters, chowing down on whatever crosses their paths. Following a bear, who'll knock over a garbage can to lick out a discarded jar of peanut butter but may ignore chicken bones, could be a win for the smaller animal. Unless a black bear has cubs with it or is looking to mate, Searles says, they won't really pay the coyote much mind. 'Everybody's used to seeing grizzlies on TV catching salmon out of the air at the top of some waterfall, but black bears are one of the laziest animals on the planet,' he explains. 'They just want to walk around on your lawn, eating grass or daisies or other non-indigenous species of plants. It's just plain easier. They don't want to run for anything if they can help it.' Bear ecologist Chris Morgan says that, while he wouldn't use the word 'lazy' to describe black bears, he would absolutely call them efficient. 'Like all bears, they're out for the biggest number of calories for the least amount of effort.' Even if the pairing is less 'buddy animal movie' and more biological imperative, that doesn't mean seasoned wildlife observers haven't found something interesting in the footage. Eric Strauss, the executive director of the Loyola Marymount Center for Urban Resilience, says his group has studied coyotes in urban environments extensively. Still, he says, he's never seen a coyote with a bear. 'I'm an old scientist, but still this kind of stuff never stops being delightful,' Strauss says. 'We might think we have everything figured out, but the beauty of science is that you have to prepare to be surprised.' Observing the pair may help scientists understand more about how animals respond to trauma, like the Eaton fire that destroyed both homes and wildlife habitat. 'In the same way that fire is traumatic to humans, fire is traumatic to social animals,' Strauss says. 'A lot of these social animals, like coyotes, probably lost their partners or lost their offspring and are, to some degree, still in shock. Most social animals are able to experience all the emotions that humans do. They don't necessarily show it the same way, but I think knowing that creates a bond between us. These animals might still be wild, but, really, we're not as different as we would like to think we are.' In Altadena, where bear murals already dotted local stores before the fire, that sort of connection can feel extra special. Greg Mann, who's lived in Altadena for about 30 years and who's posted his bear sightings on the local Reddit page, says when he returned to his home in the Canyon Crest neighborhood earlier this spring, the area felt deserted, not just by people but by animals as well. 'Everything was so silent. There weren't a lot of people back and it was pitch black at nighttime,' he says. 'We weren't seeing any signs of wildlife and [my wife and I] were really concerned because the fire had traveled so quickly so we just weren't sure how all the animals had fared. But then we started getting deer in our yard again and other animals, and every single time a new animal comes through, it just feels so hopeful. Little by little, it feels like things are starting to get back to the way they should be.'
Yahoo
14-06-2025
- Yahoo
Lopez: Five months after wildfires, it's still PTSD for animals: Pets trying to shake depression
Now and again, while walking Philly near the Rose Bowl, I bump into a dog trainer named Eldon, who generously offers pointers. My cheesesteak-shaped beagle used to go on strike during walks, but he's improving thanks in part to Eldon's tips. I wanted to write about that, but Eldon said he's mostly retired and doesn't need the publicity. His only new clients, he told me, are dogs who are still struggling with PTSD from the Eaton wildfire in January. Come on, I implored. That's a story on its own. Maybe so, Eldon said. Dogs are creatures of habit, he reminded me, as much as humans — or more. They like their homes, their neighborhoods, their familiar smells and routines. Rip all of that away overnight, and they're knocked off balance. Eldon suggested I call Natalie Langan, owner of Trailhead Hounds, because her clients include displaced Altadenans and their discombobulated dogs. When Eldon showed me a photo of Langan, I realized I'd seen her running pack hikes on the Gabrielino Trail above the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, with a garrison of 30 or more dogs in four-legged lockstep. 'I would say roughly a quarter of all the dogs we pick up for our pack hikes are dogs from Altadena who lost their homes,' Langan told me when I called. Some dogs — and cats — have made multiple moves since the fire and had to get used to new surroundings over and over again. That can put them on edge and heighten their separation anxiety, Langan said, and if their owners are depressed or grief-stricken about loss and uncertainty, the animals absorb those emotions too. 'Dogs see the world in patterns. That's how we're able to train them,' said Langan, who advises clients who lost their homes to establish new routines for their pets. 'The No. 1 thing is to create a new normal, and that's for humans as well. My parents lost their home to the fire and I've been helping them" build structure into their days and stay on the move 'rather than sitting around the condo being sad about what's happening.' When I first wrote about the impact of the fires on dogs, cats, chickens and goldfish, I noted that Anthony Ruffin and Jonni Miller's dog and two cats were badly shaken. Especially Mr. Thelma, a cat who refused to go outdoors at their temporary rental in La Crescenta. Miller reports that Mr. Thelma, who was found wandering in the rubble of their yard several days after their home on West Palm Street in Altadena was destroyed, is OK, but still won't go outside. I also checked back in with Jessica Davis, who runs Boomer's Buddies, a Malibu animal rescue that helped families track down strays that were scattered by the Palisades fires. She said multiple moves to temporary quarters have been particularly hard on pets. 'Yes, they can be resilient, but some animals carry trauma and they want to be back where they were,' Davis said. 'We're starting to see a surge of people saying, 'I lost everything and can't keep my animal'" until getting resettled. Davis said she's currently trying to find someone to foster a Bernese mountain dog. In Altadena, Sharon Moon and Kimbop, her 14-year-old Pomeranian, used to enjoy regular neighborhood gatherings with dogs and their owners, and Moon's mother would join her and Kimbop on sunset hikes along the Crest Trail. 'Everything is gone,' said Moon, including her home. She's staying in Silver Lake, planning to rebuild in Altadena, and Kimbop is doing pretty well but still adjusting to different sights and missing her friends. 'We all used to have so much fun gathering and chatting [in Altadena]. It was our little enclave away from all the madness.' Meghan Malloy and her family, who lost their home in Altadena, moved three times before settling into a rental in Sherman Oaks. It hasn't been easy, because Malloy and her husband have a newborn, two cats (Felix and Mushu) and two golden retrievers (Arthur and Clementine). The cats are OK and so is Arthur, but he misses his yard and his friends. And then there's Clementine, who was 'a little anxious' before the fire, and more so ever since. 'She has been absolutely velcroed to me or my husband's side,' Malloy said. 'She was always a pack dog, and had to be with people, and with Arthur. But she has been so clingy, and gets so upset to be left alone.' Levi, a 4-year-old mutt, suffered through 'a month of real instability,' said owner Jenn Burt, as they moved into temporary quarters with a series of friends in the Pasadena area. 'Having to get used to a new place every week … and not knowing what the rules were in each of the houses … was quite hard,' said Burt. Levi had enjoyed sofa privileges in Altadena, but those rights did not travel with him. He's improving, but he's still more anxious than he used to be and rattled by fireworks in the nightly warm-up for Fourth of July. Boudica, a shepherd mix, is 'definitely traumatized,' said Katie Jordan. When they lost their Altadena home, she, her teenage son, two cats and Boudica tried squeezing into her boyfriend's one-bedroom apartment, but it was a tight fit, and a rental in Glendale has been better. Jordan once took Boudica back to their destroyed neighborhood in Altadena, before debris was removed, and realized that might not have been a good idea. 'It was heartbreaking,' Jordan said. 'She just ran around whining, like she was so confused." There is one activity, though, that always brings relief to Boudica: 'Being in a big pack is her dream, and she feels so safe,' Jordan said. I know what Jordan means. Philly gets excited every time we get within three blocks of dropping him off with dog handler Burke Stuart, of Man's Best Friend, so he can run around with his pack. On Wednesday morning, Boudica joined 23 other dogs on a Trailhead Hounds hike at Crescenta Valley Community Regional Park. Langan was joined by two other trainers: her husband, Chase Langan, and Soyun Ahn. Read more: Four months into insurance claim delays and disputes, a new blow to fire victims: A rate hike Boudica had a lot in common with Cosmo, Freckles, Lucy, Ruby and Levi, all of whom either lost their homes or were forced to move out temporarily. But I couldn't have picked them out as the ones with issues. Tails were wagging and most of the dogs had that expression that looks like a smile, mouth half-open, tongue dangling. With plenty of grass, trees, dirt and hints of scatological delights in the air, they were in dog paradise. The dogs are all trained not to pull on the leash, to stay in formation and to steer clear of rattlesnakes by sight, sound or scent. It was all very impressive, but I kept thinking Philly — who travels nose to the ground, zigzagging through the world — would have been kicked out of class. About halfway through the hike, the dogs went off leash but stayed close. Two of them wrestled on the grass, and a few climbed onto a twisted tree trunk to pose for a group photo that would be sent to the owners. All in all, it was a pretty therapeutic way to start the day. And not just for the dogs. Sign up for Essential California for news, features and recommendations from the L.A. Times and beyond in your inbox six days a week. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
Los Angeles Times
14-06-2025
- Los Angeles Times
Five months after wildfires, it's still PTSD for animals: Pets trying to shake depression
Now and again, while walking Philly near the Rose Bowl, I bump into a dog trainer named Eldon, who generously offers pointers. My cheesesteak-shaped beagle used to go on strike during walks, but he's improving thanks in part to Eldon's tips. I wanted to write about that, but Eldon said he's mostly retired and doesn't need the publicity. His only new clients, he told me, are dogs who are still struggling with PTSD from the Eaton wildfire in January. Come on, I implored. That's a story on its own. Maybe so, Eldon said. Dogs are creatures of habit, he reminded me, as much as humans — or more. They like their homes, their neighborhoods, their familiar smells and routines. Rip all of that away overnight, and they're knocked off balance. Eldon suggested I call Natalie Langan, owner of Trailhead Hounds, because her clients include displaced Altadenans and their discombobulated dogs. When Eldon showed me a photo of Langan, I realized I'd seen her running pack hikes on the Gabrielino Trail above the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, with a garrison of 30 or more dogs in four-legged lockstep. 'I would say roughly a quarter of all the dogs we pick up for our pack hikes are dogs from Altadena who lost their homes,' Langan told me when I called. Some dogs — and cats — have made multiple moves since the fire and had to get used to new surroundings over and over again. That can put them on edge and heighten their separation anxiety, Langan said, and if their owners are depressed or grief-stricken about loss and uncertainty, the animals absorb those emotions too. 'Dogs see the world in patterns. That's how we're able to train them,' said Langan, who advises clients who lost their homes to establish new routines for their pets. 'The No. 1 thing is to create a new normal, and that's for humans as well. My parents lost their home to the fire and I've been helping them' build structure into their days and stay on the move 'rather than sitting around the condo being sad about what's happening.' When I first wrote about the impact of the fires on dogs, cats, chickens and goldfish, I noted that Anthony Ruffin and Jonni Miller's dog and two cats were badly shaken. Especially Mr. Thelma, a cat who refused to go outdoors at their temporary rental in La Crescenta. Miller reports that Mr. Thelma, who was found wandering in the rubble of their yard several days after their home on West Palm Street in Altadena was destroyed, is OK, but still won't go outside. I also checked back in with Jessica Davis, who runs Boomer's Buddies, a Malibu animal rescue that helped families track down strays that were scattered by the Palisades fires. She said multiple moves to temporary quarters have been particularly hard on pets. 'Yes, they can be resilient, but some animals carry trauma and they want to be back where they were,' Davis said. 'We're starting to see a surge of people saying, 'I lost everything and can't keep my animal'' until getting resettled. Davis said she's currently trying to find someone to foster a Bernese mountain dog. In Altadena, Sharon Moon and Kimbop, her 14-year-old Pomeranian, used to enjoy regular neighborhood gatherings with dogs and their owners, and Moon's mother would join her and Kimbop on sunset hikes along the Crest Trail. 'Everything is gone,' said Moon, including her home. She's staying in Silver Lake, planning to rebuild in Altadena, and Kimbop is doing pretty well but still adjusting to different sights and missing her friends. 'We all used to have so much fun gathering and chatting [in Altadena]. It was our little enclave away from all the madness.' Meghan Malloy and her family, who lost their home in Altadena, moved three times before settling into a rental in Sherman Oaks. It hasn't been easy, because Malloy and her husband have a newborn, two cats (Felix and Mushu) and two golden retrievers (Arthur and Clementine). The cats are OK and so is Arthur, but he misses his yard and his friends. And then there's Clementine, who was 'a little anxious' before the fire, and more so ever since. 'She has been absolutely velcroed to me or my husband's side,' Malloy said. 'She was always a pack dog, and had to be with people, and with Arthur. But she has been so clingy, and gets so upset to be left alone.' Levi, a 4-year-old mutt, suffered through 'a month of real instability,' said owner Jenn Burt, as they moved into temporary quarters with a series of friends in the Pasadena area. 'Having to get used to a new place every week … and not knowing what the rules were in each of the houses … was quite hard,' said Burt. Levi had enjoyed sofa privileges in Altadena, but those rights did not travel with him. He's improving, but he's still more anxious than he used to be and rattled by fireworks in the nightly warm-up for Fourth of July. Boudica, a shepherd mix, is 'definitely traumatized,' said Katie Jordan. When they lost their Altadena home, she, her teenage son, two cats and Boudica tried squeezing into her boyfriend's one-bedroom apartment, but it was a tight fit, and a rental in Glendale has been better. Jordan once took Boudica back to their destroyed neighborhood in Altadena, before debris was removed, and realized that might not have been a good idea. 'It was heartbreaking,' Jordan said. 'She just ran around whining, like she was so confused.' There is one activity, though, that always brings relief to Boudica: 'Being in a big pack is her dream, and she feels so safe,' Jordan said. I know what Jordan means. Philly gets excited every time we get within three blocks of dropping him off with dog handler Burke Stuart, of Man's Best Friend, so he can run around with his pack. On Wednesday morning, Boudica joined 23 other dogs on a Trailhead Hounds hike at Crescenta Valley Community Regional Park. Langan was joined by two other trainers: her husband, Chase Langan, and Soyun Ahn. Boudica had a lot in common with Cosmo, Freckles, Lucy, Ruby and Levi, all of whom either lost their homes or were forced to move out temporarily. But I couldn't have picked them out as the ones with issues. Tails were wagging and most of the dogs had that expression that looks like a smile, mouth half-open, tongue dangling. With plenty of grass, trees, dirt and hints of scatological delights in the air, they were in dog paradise. The dogs are all trained not to pull on the leash, to stay in formation and to steer clear of rattlesnakes by sight, sound or scent. It was all very impressive, but I kept thinking Philly — who travels nose to the ground, zigzagging through the world — would have been kicked out of class. About halfway through the hike, the dogs went off leash but stayed close. Two of them wrestled on the grass, and a few climbed onto a twisted tree trunk to pose for a group photo that would be sent to the owners. All in all, it was a pretty therapeutic way to start the day. And not just for the dogs.
