This morning, I heard our cat meow, in that weird “voice” she usually reserves for letting us know she’s caught a mouse. Not thrilled, and ready to call my husband (he does mouse duty around here), I went to see what was up. She was standing at the screen door looking out. And on the other side, looking in, was one of these:
I didn’t recognize what it was at first. Here’s what went through my mind:
1. Okay, looks like we may be getting a kitten sooner than I’d planned.
2. Oh, I really don’t want to deal with a feral kitten.
3. Wait a minute. Those are tufts in its ears.
4. And those spots don’t really look like a tabby pattern.
Me out loud, at this point, to the kitten: “What are you doing here?”
Kitten scampers away.
5. Okay, yeah, that’s a pretty short tail.
6. I hope its mom is somewhere near.
7. Maybe not too near.
We’ve been in our house for something like 18 years, and this is only the second bobcat I’ve seen on our property. The first was much older and I barely noticed it, because it camouflaged so well against the dirt, leaves, and sticks on the ground. That one was motionless for-just-about-ever, before it moved with lovely stealth up the hillside. The little guy this morning was either lost and lonely or bold and adventurous. I’m hoping for the second and that it found its mom quickly and is even now being scolded for venturing so close to the humans. My cat, I’m pretty sure, is just happy its gone.
Yes, we live in the hills, but we’re not as far out in the boonies as people often think. Today, though, I’m realizing that we’re also a little further out than I’d believed.
Either way, it was a pretty cool way to start the day.
Becky Levine 