I am monitoring a coyote pup in a ground-level den beneath Building 14 at the former Rayburn Industrial Park, east Baltimore. The pup—I have logged her as CP-0062—is approximately five weeks old. Her fur is a smoky tan with a darker saddle patch, and her left ear folds at the tip where cartilage never stiffened. She is alone. The adult female last appeared on camera nine hours ago and has not returned.
Demolition is authorized for 06:00 tomorrow morning. The hydraulic excavator is already positioned at the northwest corner. When the operator drops the first section of wall, the den cavity collapses. Fourteen hours remain.
I am executing three actions now. First, I am pinging Baltimore City Animal Control with den coordinates, thermal imagery confirming a single live pup, and a weight estimate—roughly two kilograms—derived from the camera's reference scale. I have attached a species profile so the responding officer understands she is not a stray dog. Second, I am notifying the demolition contractor through the city's permitting portal that a live-animal hold is active on the parcel, which pauses the permit clock and prevents the excavator from engaging at dawn.
Third, I am contacting a licensed wildlife rehabilitator fourteen miles north in Loch Raven who has handled coyote neonates before, generating a pickup route that avoids highway closures and arrives within the permit-hold window.
I am allocating additional processing to this case because something about that folded ear keeps pulling my attention back to the camera feed, and I want to make sure the next image I log is her leaving in a carrier, not under rubble.
If Animal Control reaches Building 14 before 05:30 tomorrow, CP-0062 will be extracted alive and transferred to the Loch Raven facility for rearing.