I use to serve as gunner for a Govt trapper flying a Piper Cub.
We had the side window open and I rode in the back seat with a 12 gauge shot gun.
When we spotted a yodel dog we would zoom down on him and I would lean way out and aim at the tip of his tail.. Number 4 buck did the job.
The hairy part was landing out there on the prairie so the pilot could cut off the pasture poodle's ears so he could collect the bounty.
Being the youngest and the skinniest when I was a kid, I was the one that had to dig down and crawl into any dens we ran across in the spring.
I would take a shovel and a .22 revolver and start mining my way in to where I could shoot the pups. I would dig in to where I could see the pups.. I would shoot one and drag him out, put my shovel in the tunnel to keep the rest of them escaping until I had the dead one out of the way and repeat. One time when I pulled my shovel back to shoot another one, I discovered Momma was in there and she came out and crawled over my back and got away. I finished up that job and never did that again.
Worst part of that doin's was the den was always loaded with fleas.. I would have to strip down and take a good bath in the nearest crick or stock tank, because my Mom wouldn't let me in the house.
There was a meeting of the County Predatory Animal Board a few years back where a US Govt employee gave a talk about a proposed control program for coyotes.
She stated they were considering capturing male coyotes and castrating them in order to reduce the population.
A bearded old ranch owner at the back of the room stood up and said "Lady them coyotes ain't screwin' (that's not the word he used) our sheep, they're eating them."
The room exploded in laughter and the lady packed up her things and left. Never heard anymore about that program.
Had 20 lambs born one day, coyotes killed 19 of them.. That was when my Granddad finally decided to give up on the sheep.
Happiest day of the rest of the families lives.
That's when I decided to quit the Highway Patrol and go back to ranching.