Cougar Conversations

(March 22, 2010)
Some people talk to themselves. Others talk to their pets. I talk to my brother’s cougars and bobcat and African jungle cat.
“Good morning, Talina! How’s my girl today? Ooh, you look so cute there with your paws crossed. I’d pet you if it were safe.”
“Hey, Tiva, I’ve come to open the gate so you can go in Eiger’s cage. Aren’t you a smart girl? And Eiger! Enjoying the sun this morning?”
“And there’s Homer—or is it Craiger? I’m sure you’d love to have me for breakfast. See you guys later!”
“Merlin! You gonna watch me wash the animal bowls this morning? Oh, you look so soft and cuddly, but I know those bobcat claws could take me out in a moment.”
And upstairs to pick up my computer print-outs, I see Worf, the African jungle cat, on John’s waterbed. Worf is the only wild cat I can pet around here. He’s a big sissy, very old with few teeth. I scratch the top of his head, and he purrs in his funny, rumbly voice that is much deeper than you would expect from a domestic-size cat. “How’s my buddy today?” I ask.
I guess it’s a rather unusual life I live. Standing by Talina’s indoor cage this morning folding the clean cougar towels, I was singing our anthem from Sunday: “Behold the Lamb!” It’s easy to rejoice in the company of cougars—as long as their cage doors are securely fastened.