You Tell Me…

I saw the mountain lion again. His absence had been noted, by me. I hadn’t seen him since I caught him sunning himself on a hillside back in early December, before Christmas Break. The park saw a huge increase in hikers over Christmas because the kids were out of school and the weather was perfect. If I were the cougar I’d take off too. I’m not fond of crowds.

On the plus side, the drug dealers have been keeping the area around the picnic table pristine. See?

Pristine.

Anyway, I saw the lion yesterday afternoon, napping in the same pasture. I felt completely safe and at ease. He was dozing and I was way up the hill. If he’d have seen me he’d have done the same thing he did the last time- headed off into the trees.

The weird thing is that Jake and I found his leavings. Well, I’m not entirely certain he ate whatever got eaten. I suspect it may have been a fox that got eaten. The fur looked fox-ish. I took a couple photos but I really didn’t want to pick up fox fur with my bare hands. Tomorrow I’ll bring a plastic bag so I can gather the remains take them to the Nature Center to be identified. I hope it’s not the fox because I’ve seen the fox a lot lately and I’m quite fond of him. He’s a cutie pie.

Which brings me to my latest pet peeve - people who move the tree branch. You see, we are in the midst of a terrible drought. The only source of water at the park right now is the cattle trough. Without the cattle there to drink out of it, the automatic filler does not engage, therefore the water level has been dropping. The birds and other animals who’ve been relying upon this water can no longer reach it. Normally there’s running water everywhere this time of year and in the summer the trough stays filled so water isn’t an issue. A few of us recognized the problem immediately and we maneuvered a downed tree branch into the water trough. Animals can climb up the branch, climb down to the water level and then get back out. Birds can stand on the branch to drink.

Some idiot doesn’t understand why the branch is there and keeps removing it. I assume he or she thinks we’re polluting the water. He or she doesn’t understand that songbirds can’t float. Every day I replace the branch and the birds appear within seconds. It’s really pissing me off. I’d nail up a sign but I know some kid would just tear it off.

So something weird happened with Jake today. There was a college (?) group hiking at the park with a naturalist. Not a local naturalist, just ‘a’ naturalist. The students were strung out along the trail on the west side of the park, the trail we hike down. They carried backpacks, wore hats, looked uncomfortable and a frankly, tentative. (Many of the trails are not for the faint of heart.)

First Jake barked at a girl sitting alone in the middle of a field where nobody ever sits (ticks honey, ticks). I think he barked because she looked so odd, as in just a torso and head sticking up out of the dead grass. With waving arms. I don’t know why she was waving her arms like a windmill.

Then we had to pass this string of students on a super narrow trail. Every single one of them froze in terror at the sight of Jake. I could tell he was getting a little jittery, but it wasn’t a problem. We passed everyone without incident. Eventually we met up with the naturalist, and Jake liked her a lot. He listened with interest to her nature talk and rubbed up against her legs. (Remember, this is a dog who was raised by a cat.) But as soon as we moved on down the trail we encountered this kid and I swear I had to stop Jake from launching himself at the kid’s throat.

If Jake feels threatened, or if he feels I’m threatened, he barks. He gives a warning bark. If the person doesn’t back off he might growl. It’s a rare occurrence. I mean, I can’t remember him barking more than a couple times in his entire life. He doesn’t bark when people come to the door. Hell, he didn’t even bark at the drug dealers.

So we ran into this kid where the trail widens out. It was no big thing. But the kid stopped dead, took one look at Jake and, well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look at Jake quite like that. He leaned forward and stared at Jake. Sort of took me aback. It reminded me of the way a cobra stares at you right before he strikes.

I had Jake on a short leash and I felt the leash shaking. I glanced at my dog. His hair stood on end, his muscles were quivering, his eyes were fixed on the kid’s face and I realized he was about to launch himself. I grabbed Jake by the neck and said to the young man, “Go. Right. Now.” Took him forever to move. There were five or six more students strung out behind him and they were also moving slowly, so I took Jake off on a deer trail.

It was disconcerting. Normally I’m busy apologizing for Jake’s overly friendly behavior. He wants to say hello to everyone, kiss everyone, especially children.

Our Buddha German shepherd dog, Louie, did the same thing once. Launched himself at a stranger without any warning. And Louie was the most unflappable dog I’ve ever known.

You tell me. I’m stumped.

Jake and Oscar watching the America’s Cup.