We raised two coyotes when I was a kid on the farm in the early '60s. A neighbour shot a female that had obviously just had pups, so another kid and I went looking for her den. We found her four newborn pups in on old abandoned beaver house.
They must have been just born, as we had them nine days until their eyes opened. We fed them with those little toy doll baby bottles, and they did very well. Their intelligence was remarkable as they matured - they simply made a fool of our St. Bernard dog, tricking him out of his food with ease one moment, and then trying to teach him how to catch mice under three feet of snow the next. The dogs efforts to learn to howl like his buddies was hilarious, but he never did get to enjoy a decent bone as the coyotes would steal every one right from under his nose.
They were one male and one female, and while the female was completely tame, the male got shy once he was mature. Both always loved to ride in a vehicle (they'd chase you down the road until you felt sorry for them and let them in) but over time the male would no longer allow us to touch him. He'd come right to your feet and wait to be fed, and follow you all over the yard, but that was as far as he'd allow. The female, on the other hand, would leap into your arms from 6' away and try to lick you to death. The male decided the doorstep was 'far enough', but keeping the female out of the house was difficult; she'd scoot between your feet and do full speed laps throughout the house before hiding behind the couch or under a bed and daring you to catch her. Her affectionate nature and tendency to leap into your arms almost caused a heart attack to more than one unknowing visitor.
Their biggest downside was they they just couldn't resist killing chickens. If a chicken got out, it was a goner. Other than that, they left all the other livestock alone. I think the chickens and the mouse hunting was simply a sporting diversion, and just too much fun to resist. They'd hunt mice by the hour, and catch an almost unbelievable number. They were the two most exuberant animals I ever saw, running, leaping and playing unceasingly. The poor old dog would try to keep up for a while and then just give up and flop over in exhaustion. He just couldn't party like the coyotes did.
They were never captive after they were weaned (we had many visits from Fish & Wildlife, as we often tended orphaned wildlife for them), and were free to come and go as they chose. Their freedom finally did them in, as one was eventually run over on a nearby road after about 2 1/2 years (as was the dog) and the other was shot by a neighbour who was the sort that killed anything he saw either by shooting it or running over it. The kind of neighbour parents warn their kids about.
Their litter mates ended up in a bush camp where they kept the cooks and crew company for several years. They matured the same way, with the female completely tame and the male friendly, but somewhat shy.