Bobcat Blues

(FYI: I had an experience today that I have to write about. If you are following my SOLC journey of writing to a prompt each day, I’ve left the plan for today.)

“Erika,” My husband called up the stairs.

“I’m running late. What is it?”

“The bobcat! By the garden!”

He’s back! Our bobcat has returned! We’ve been waiting for him. We have had the incredible luck of having a bobcat come through our property for years. (OK, we are assuming it is the same beautiful feline coming back to see us year in and year out.) When we first met him (or her), we watched him stalk and kill a squirrel in the most efficient manner. It was impressive, and actually quite beautiful. He was so elegant and sleek. We watched him as he crouched down low and set his eyes on his prey. He waited and watched as the squirrel (sort of clueless) tried to get some seed from under the bird feeder. Suddenly, the bobcat launched forward and in milliseconds grabbed the squirrel by the neck, instantly rendering him (or her) lifeless. He sat there for a minute (letting us take a few great photographs), holding the squirrel in his powerful jaws. He was quite proud of his accomplishment. Then he trotted off, looking like an elegant show horse, into the woods to enjoy his day’s work.

Today was, unfortunately, quite a different experience. I ran to the window. Work could wait for a few minutes. Enjoying our stunning neighborhood bobcat was something I wasn’t willing to miss. I couldn’t see from upstairs, so I ran down and looked out. There he was! He was walking toward the bird feeder near the back porch. He was unusually close to the house. Wait. Is he limping? I called my husband over and we tried to look more closely. He was limping…and badly. I looked in horror as I realized that his back paw was missing. He was moving his way, slowly, along the side of the house. Was he hungry? Was he looking to eat bird seed? Has he lost his ability to hunt? Is he in pain? Is he dying? He lumbered along. He looked tired. He continued his journey along the back of the house, through the side garden, and made his way over the rock wall. He disappeared into the neighbor’s yard. What will happen to this amazing creature?

Getting old is so hard, so unfair. A dear friend of mine is in her final stages of this journey we call life. She was once capable, fierce, independent. Now she is weak, tired, dependent. What will happen to this amazing person?