The Christmas Bobcat

I received a phone call from Kari Freidig Saturday morning, two days after Christmas 2008, that she had just called Laurel about an injured bobcat that needed to be picked up along Highway 20, and to call Laurel if I was interested in helping. It took me all of a nanosecond to decide I wanted to be involved in this rescue. I quickly called Laurel and got the only particulars that she had, which was that these people were at Highway 20 and Penn Valley Drive with an injured bobcat underneath their truck.

Evidently, this family (a couple and their teenage son) had been driving along Hwy. 20 toward Grass Valley and saw a small bobcat alongside the road that appeared to be injured. They made a U-turn and went back, parking in a large dirt area next to the road. When they crossed the road to check it out, the cat tried to run from them, but unable to use its back legs, dragged itself across the highway and went under their parked truck, probably because it was the only refuge around. They called WR&R, and after almost an hour that it took us to find them, we finally got to them. They were wonderful to have first of all called us, and secondly, waited in the cold for an hour until we arrived. I grabbed the thick leather raptor gloves I had invested in a few months back, and which I always keep in the trunk of my car. Laurel and Eric had gloves as well, a large animal carrier, a towel and blanket. The little cat (it probably was only a few months old) was terrified and huddled underneath the truck against the passenger side front tire. While Eric distracted it from the front, I went around from the back (it had its back to me) and grabbed it by the scruff of the neck. I didn’t expect its reaction to be so violent. In an instant, it tried to turn itself inside out, hissing, growling, biting, scratching (thank goodness for good leather gloves!), squirmed out of my grip and dragged itself toward the driver side of the truck, which was also toward the road. The family who owned the truck was on that side to prevent it from going back onto the highway, so it turned and dragged itself back to the same tire as it had been huddled next to. It had no use of its back legs, which was not at all a good sign. So I again grabbed the back of its neck and was determined not to let it go this time. I finally pulled it out from under the truck, put it into the carrier, and we were off to the wonderful people at Mother Lode Vet Hospital, who Laurel had already called so they were expecting us. The cat was small, probably a little smaller than my large cat, Hobbit, but not as heavy.

Despite not having lights and sirens to make people get out of the way (which I was dearly wanting at that point!), we got to the vet quickly and were ushered around the back of the building into the isolation room. While we waited for Dr. Tim VanGeem to come in, the fierce little cat rumbled low growls, warning us to keep away from it. When Dr. Tim came in, we explained that it had been hit by a car (as opposed to being sick), and we wanted him to see if there was any possibility of saving it. He gave her a sedative, which took about 10 minutes to take effect. These pictures are when the cat is sedated, and you can see the badly mangled back leg.

We took advantage of the cat being out, and couldn’t help petting her beautiful spotted coat, touching her little tufted ears, and remarking on how big her feet were. He took x-rays of the cat’s legs and back, and, his face grave, gave us the bad news. Not only was one of the back legs so badly shattered it probably wouldn't have been able to be mended, but her back was totally broken, with one part of the spine resting on top of the other part at the break. There was absolutely no help for her, and he had no choice but to put her out of her suffering.

I cried for this gorgeous fierce little wild cat whose life was cut short way too soon. She never really even had a chance, and she was so young. Despite having such grievous injuries, she had an amazing fighting spirit in that little broken body that went beyond the physical. The only good news was that she probably was not in any pain, since her spinal cord had been severed. She was terrified and in shock, but fought bravely until she just couldn't fight any more. After that, she wasn't aware of anything, and then just went to sleep forever. It was a sad, sad morning. That we couldn't save this incredibly fierce but beautiful little being was very hard to accept.

After leaving the vet’s office, I took my dog, Kala, for a walk at Empire Mine State Park. I couldn’t help thinking that the little cat would no longer be able to stalk through the wet pine needles in the forest looking for prey, feeling the cold air on her face, and listening to the birds scolding her overhead. She would never be able to grow up, raise a family, or do any of the things that wild bobcats do. Sometimes life is just not fair.