Who hasn't played cat and mouse or hide and seek as a kid? I used to love finding small, tight spots to squeeze into while my brothers looked in all the obvious places. I never thought I would be playing the game with a real, live, wild cat, however!
Last week after one of the overnight light snows, I went out tracking quite early - hoping to see who had moved through before the snow melted in the warmth of the day. I was enjoying finding raccoon tracks, porcupine trails, flying squirrels galore, and then I saw them. Cat tracks. Trailing cats is one of my favorite winter hobbies - you can see so much about their daily lives in the winter snow, so I was thrilled to get a peek into the spring going's on as well. Breeding season in this area runs until late March, and so I was hoping to see some interesting interactions - knowing that there were multiple cats in this territory. I did pause momentarily, because the tracks were petite -- had a domestic cat strayed into this rural area? On a closer look, I decided that I was indeed looking at a female bobcat track -- the lady cats are more petite than the males, and shaped somewhat differently.
The cat in question was clearly on the move. I followed her as she worked the edge of the wood line, climbing over rocks and under obstacles. Was she trying to flush prey -- not a common strategy for cats compared to dogs? I was heavily focussed on the trip she was taking me on when I felt eyes. I turned, expecting to see a squirrel or other common woodland creature wondering what this strange human was doing. I was slightly shocked to meet the beautiful amber eyes of a female bobcat. She was sitting in the open, upright in the typical "statue"position cats use, just watching me follow her. The tracks I had been following were clearly fresh -- most bobcats are diurnal and I had assumed this lady was on an early morning hunt -- but I really didn't have any idea how fresh they actually were. I didn't have my camera along, I had only been going out to do some tracking. We locked eyes for a few moments, when she stood, stretched, and faded away like a wraith into the woods. Masters of camoflage, she was quickly lost. I treasured the experience as a rich gain and continued working through the fresh array of tracks.
Soon, I was again distracted by the feeling I was being watched. Once again, my feline friend had appeared into the open, curious as to what I was doing and much closer this time. I retreated to get my camera, and she did not seem even slightly alarmed as I left and returned, moving quietly through her hunting territory. Bobcats will feed upon a wide variety of animals, including mice, voles, snowshoe hare, grouse, woodchucks, beaver, deer (full grown and fawns), and turkeys. They also feed upon insects, reptiles, small birds, and carrion. Bobcats hunt primarily by sight and sound, which means they spend much of their time sitting or crouching, watching, and listening. Once they've located prey, they stalk until they are close enough to make a quick dash, then attack.
We went on, with her trailing me through the area for several hours. Every time I thought she had moved on to something else, she would settle into the open and show herself, waiting for me to find her. I was certain that I was the mouse in this game of cat and mouse. And then, the amazing happened. She laid down and appeared to be ready for a nap. On a common small mammal crossing, she hunkered in between some rocks, and didn't move for quite a long period. In fact, she was so well camoflaged that at times, I could only make out the white spots on her ears. Not entirely sure the rules of her game of cat and mouse, I slowly closed the gap between us. In the above picture, I was roughly 2 feet away from her - and she remained totally relaxed (you can see the forward position of her ears - she was either not aware of, or ignoring, my position behind her). I decided not to potentially violate any rules of the game, and held my position. However - she heard the sound of my camera shutter (even though it was set to silent) for as soon as I snapped the photo - she turned, looked me over with those soul piercing amber eyes, stretched, and slid silently back into the woods. For just a moment, I had been the cat in the game and she had been the mouse. What a feeling!
Over a period of about 10 hours, we followed each other through the woods - each gaining some insight into the behaviours and life of the other. She became increasingly more relaxed to the point where she slid into the shadow less and less often. I took over a thousand photos of her during the day - many of which were through bits of brush and sticks, since we were exploring an area I commonly call "rabbitat" - fairly heavy undergrowth which can hide many of the prey species favored by the bobcat. I didn't see her make any catches - and I did worry that my presence was alarming her prey into leaving the area. However, she was also free to move on at any point in time, and she seemed to be enjoying the game as much as I was! We even engaged into the "staring contest" that all cat owners know -- who will blink and look away first.
After about a half an hour - during which the human in the pair was sitting on the muddy ground in the shade and mostly frozen and wet while the cat was enjoying a rock in the dappled sun - the bobcat decided to blink, turn away, stretch - and head off as if she didn't have any intent of winning the game in the first place. Such a typical cat like attitude! Dusk was approaching, and I wondered how our game of cat and mouse would end. Would we continue until it was too dark for me to see and I would have to retreat? Bobcats' eyes have more rods and cones and are therefore much better adapted to see in the dark. She could certainly continue the game long after I was blinded by darkness.
My lady friend allowed me to lose the game with complete dignity. She could have continued until my biology forced me to rely on hearing - and her padded feet and light snow cover gave her a total advantage in the silence department. Just as it started to get too dark to continue - she got up from her current rock of choice, stretched, and disappeared into the woods. Feeling that it was time to end the game, I watched her go, both elated at the experience and sad to see it end. But she had one last surpise for me. She appeared on the rocks at the edge of a clearing, and assumed the classic cat pose - looking backwards over her shoulder at me in the distance, the only reason I could still see her was because she was against exposed ground. Here she sat, silhouetted in the distance, until she blended into the night.
I never would have thought that a few hours of morning tracking would turn into a full day of sharing an experience with a wild animal. The feeling of elation, and the insight into this special life that I shared, is something that will remain with me for a lifetime.
