Lions and . . . bears are enough! Oh, my!
Let's just skip the tigers. Please? Read on...
When last I was caught bastardizing a "Wizard of Oz" quote from the wilderness outpost known as Redding, a bear had found its way into a tree in a backyard of a home half a mile from us. That event, which took place roughly two weeks ago, served as a reminder that while we may be living in a city of 80+ thousand, we're still pretty rural. So a bear climbed into a tree. Almost like dog bites man, right? Acknowledge it and get on with your day.
That would be fine advice I'd be only too happy to accept were it not for the fact that just a week later, on June 27, wild animals in local backyards were again making front-page news. In this go-round, the Department of Fish and Game was summoned after Lana Ferreira, a woman living two miles from us, reported that a mountain lion, pictured at right, was perched in a tree above her pool.
Ahem. A mountain lion. In her backyard. I was somewhat accustomed to this sort of thing back home, where it occurred with some regularity among the foothills, in neighborhoods where the yards were more or less chunks of wilderness--formerly the lions' stomping grounds--with fences thrown up around them. But this situation took place in a densely-populated subdivision, on flat land, some distance from the nearest hills. Perhaps someone forgot to remind Mr. Lion that his intended habitat is the mountains, and hence the reference to them in his name?
Officials initially doubted Mrs. Ferreira's story, stating that in these parts, mountain lion reports "often turn out to be from San Francisco Bay area transplants misidentifying bobcats or even large housecats." Large housecats, mountain lions...yeah, they pretty much look the same to us stupid Bay Area refugees. Give me a break. Regionalism in my very own adopted hometown paper--what nerve!
Fortunately--or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it--Mrs. Ferreira had snapped a picture of the cat while waiting for the arrival of the warden who, when faced with the evidence, had to admit that yes, this was in fact a mountain lion. Or a cougar. Or a puma. Or a panther. Or anything else you might want to call it. But most certainly not a large housecat.
That's somewhere between 150 and 250 pounds of wild, ferocious and no doubt hungry cat sitting in your backyard. And while mountain lions don't often attack humans, there have been, according to the paper, 13 verified attacks in the state since 1890, six of which were fatal. Which is exactly the reason I'd not have reacted in the manner of Mr. Ferreira, who, based on his actions, must have been caught up in the pre-release hoopla of Superman Returns. All he needed was a cape.
Unless Kelly tells me that, oh, by the way, one of the kids is out in the backyard with the mountain lion she spotted, I'm ducking from sight, grabbing her and the kids, and heading to the most remote part of the house. And I'm staying there until I know for sure that the cat is gone. But not Mr. Ferreira. As if to reward the couple's three-year-old Brittany Spaniel, Carson, whose barking first alerted the couple to the mountain lion's presence, this nut went outside to retrieve the dog. And as he did, the big cat leapt from the tree and departed. Good thing for Carson, a puny little forty-pound dog that wouldn't have stood a chance against a cat several times his weight. And for Mr. Ferreira, too, since he likely would have tried to protect the dog had the lion decided to pounce. Then things could have gotten really ugly.
So, another wildlife encounter is in the books, and I'm left for the second time in as many weeks pondering what might await us after we move next month. After all, we'll be in the hills, on the very edge of development, butting right up to wooded areas. Until now, plenty of animals have called our future home theirs. And they're likely to still, whether we like it or not.
And as we've seen, in these parts, anything seems possible. I mean, heck, first a bear, then a lion, and later the same week, a bald eagle, which was found right in front of our local post office. So what's next? Then again, maybe I'd better not tempt fate by asking. Unlikely as it seems, maybe that aforementioned tiger might find its way up here, too, hmmm? I shudder to think.
Meanwhile, now that I think about it, the ringleader of the band of cats that's been terrorizing our backyard every night is pretty big, from the glimpses I've caught of him. Maybe I'd better flip on the light tonight and see just how big he really is. Or not. Based on this news, I might not like what I find...
When last I was caught bastardizing a "Wizard of Oz" quote from the wilderness outpost known as Redding, a bear had found its way into a tree in a backyard of a home half a mile from us. That event, which took place roughly two weeks ago, served as a reminder that while we may be living in a city of 80+ thousand, we're still pretty rural. So a bear climbed into a tree. Almost like dog bites man, right? Acknowledge it and get on with your day.
That would be fine advice I'd be only too happy to accept were it not for the fact that just a week later, on June 27, wild animals in local backyards were again making front-page news. In this go-round, the Department of Fish and Game was summoned after Lana Ferreira, a woman living two miles from us, reported that a mountain lion, pictured at right, was perched in a tree above her pool.Ahem. A mountain lion. In her backyard. I was somewhat accustomed to this sort of thing back home, where it occurred with some regularity among the foothills, in neighborhoods where the yards were more or less chunks of wilderness--formerly the lions' stomping grounds--with fences thrown up around them. But this situation took place in a densely-populated subdivision, on flat land, some distance from the nearest hills. Perhaps someone forgot to remind Mr. Lion that his intended habitat is the mountains, and hence the reference to them in his name?
Officials initially doubted Mrs. Ferreira's story, stating that in these parts, mountain lion reports "often turn out to be from San Francisco Bay area transplants misidentifying bobcats or even large housecats." Large housecats, mountain lions...yeah, they pretty much look the same to us stupid Bay Area refugees. Give me a break. Regionalism in my very own adopted hometown paper--what nerve!
Fortunately--or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it--Mrs. Ferreira had snapped a picture of the cat while waiting for the arrival of the warden who, when faced with the evidence, had to admit that yes, this was in fact a mountain lion. Or a cougar. Or a puma. Or a panther. Or anything else you might want to call it. But most certainly not a large housecat.
That's somewhere between 150 and 250 pounds of wild, ferocious and no doubt hungry cat sitting in your backyard. And while mountain lions don't often attack humans, there have been, according to the paper, 13 verified attacks in the state since 1890, six of which were fatal. Which is exactly the reason I'd not have reacted in the manner of Mr. Ferreira, who, based on his actions, must have been caught up in the pre-release hoopla of Superman Returns. All he needed was a cape.
Unless Kelly tells me that, oh, by the way, one of the kids is out in the backyard with the mountain lion she spotted, I'm ducking from sight, grabbing her and the kids, and heading to the most remote part of the house. And I'm staying there until I know for sure that the cat is gone. But not Mr. Ferreira. As if to reward the couple's three-year-old Brittany Spaniel, Carson, whose barking first alerted the couple to the mountain lion's presence, this nut went outside to retrieve the dog. And as he did, the big cat leapt from the tree and departed. Good thing for Carson, a puny little forty-pound dog that wouldn't have stood a chance against a cat several times his weight. And for Mr. Ferreira, too, since he likely would have tried to protect the dog had the lion decided to pounce. Then things could have gotten really ugly.
So, another wildlife encounter is in the books, and I'm left for the second time in as many weeks pondering what might await us after we move next month. After all, we'll be in the hills, on the very edge of development, butting right up to wooded areas. Until now, plenty of animals have called our future home theirs. And they're likely to still, whether we like it or not.
And as we've seen, in these parts, anything seems possible. I mean, heck, first a bear, then a lion, and later the same week, a bald eagle, which was found right in front of our local post office. So what's next? Then again, maybe I'd better not tempt fate by asking. Unlikely as it seems, maybe that aforementioned tiger might find its way up here, too, hmmm? I shudder to think.
Meanwhile, now that I think about it, the ringleader of the band of cats that's been terrorizing our backyard every night is pretty big, from the glimpses I've caught of him. Maybe I'd better flip on the light tonight and see just how big he really is. Or not. Based on this news, I might not like what I find...
posted by Scott at
4:53:00 PM
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