The Big Cat: An Odd Tale

Cougar-In July, three 911 calls in a row were place from Almost Iowa. All concerned animals. The first came from Fiona Ferguson.

“I am being attacked by wild turkeys,” she reported.

“Can you get to safety?” the dispatcher asked.

“I can’t move,” Fiona said, “they’ve completely surrounded my Prius.”

“Are you in your car?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have your keys?” the dispatcher asked flatly

“Yes.”

“Then drive away….”

At this point, Fiona, whose indignation is legendary became even more indignant. “I am not going to hurt those birds,” she said, “besides, I have never seen them this hysterical. Something has upset them.”

A deputy, monitoring the call on another line, cut in,”Stay put Fiona, help is on the way.”

Why?” the dispatcher hissed.

“I’ve got to get this on YouTube,” he said.

The next call came in ten minutes later.

“I want to report a cat,” the caller said.

“Hang up and call county animal control,” the dispatcher told him.

“You don’t understand. This is a really big cat.”

“How big is really big?”

“A whole lot bigger than me,” the caller stated.

The third call came in shortly before 5:00 pm.

“I have something the sheriff ought to see,” the caller said.

“Hang up and call the sheriff directly,” the dispatcher told him.

“No, you get a hold of him,” he said, “we have a mountain lion on the loose. I captured him on my critter cam.”

The last call came from Neil Jacobson and everyone around Almost Iowa knows that when Neil says something — it is what he says it is. The man simply lacks the imagination to lie.  So much so, that a neighbor once complained, “Neil has a stranglehold on reality.”

So that was that. A mountain lion was on the prowl. Soon word got out and rumor got out faster.

In short order, two meetings were scheduled. The first, organized by Fiona, called The Friends of Gaia together in the basement of Grace Lutheran Church. The second meeting, called by Darren Jacobson, Neil’s brother, rallied The Friend of Liberty to arms at the township hall.

After Fiona’s meeting, her keyboard warriors took to Facebook to alert their followers that mountain lions are protected. In addition, they wrote, cougars should not to be feared because they are anti-social creatures who keep to themselves. [to which one commenter responded glibly, “and who take a dimmer view of humanity than do The Friends of Gaia”]

Darren’s meeting followed quite another course.

School starts next month,” he warned, “imagine your kid walking alone down a long driveway to the bus stop. Now imagine, lurking in the tall corn..”

Cell phones literally flew out of pockets. Within minutes, the parking lot overflowed with dieseling pickups and a sea of camouflage poured into the hall. With the crowd backing up out the door, Darren pounded on the podium. “Can we get a little order here?” he scolded.

The audience quieted down.

The Minnesota Department of Natural Resources (DNR) says we can’t shoot this thing,” he began, “but I say we can.”

The gathering murmured it’s approval.

No government agency is gonna tell us that we can’t defend our kids,” he continued. “we all know how unreasonable the DNR is. Well, this is about OUR lives and OUR liberty.”

A voice from the back echoed his sentiment, “I heard the DNR is re-establishing lions, just like they did with wolves.”

Neil confirmed what the voice claimed. “The lion on my critter cam wore a tracking collar,” he stated.

An audible gasp rose from the kitchen where the cattle breeders had gathered around a peculating urn of coffee.

See,” Darren said, “that’s what I’m talking about. The bureaucrats in St. Paul didn’t see fit to notify us. First they ban smoking in our bars then they set a mountain lion loose on our kids. It’s why we formed the militia.”

No one quite followed the line that led directly between smoking bans and mountain lions but they kind of got the picture.

Darren was on a roll. He nodded toward the back of the room and the hall went dark.

What the hell you doing,” his brother yelled.

“We’re gonna watch Braveheart,” Darren said, “it’s about freedom from tyranny! If you are all going to join our militia, you have to watch this to understand our principles.”

I thought we were gonna shoot something, not watch a freak’n movie,” someone yelled.

‘Darren, you’re an idiot,” another voice grumbled.

The sea of camouflage rippled out the door, leaving Darren and the other two members of the militia alone to watch Braveheart for the twentieth time.

Geez, let’s go shoot something,” one member said to the other, leaving Darren alone and feeling not a little betrayed.

The truth is, there was nothing to shoot. The dogs who were pressed into service, couldn’t hold the lion’s trail and for the next two weeks, all the road hunting and field tromping produced was a few obscure tracks and a paper bag of crusted cat scat.

Still, there was a mystique about hunting mountain lion. Though the community remained on edge, there was a magic in the return of a wild thing that brought to mind distant memories of when the area was not so settled and sedate.

In mid August, a cougar with similar markings to the one captured by Neil’s critter cam was clipped a few miles south of Greene Iowa by a pickup truck. It wore a collar just like Neil’s cat but it was discovered to be a woven dog collar, not a tracking collar.

The DNR traced the cat to a Minnetonka couple who weary of the work and expense of owning a big cat, felt entitled to “release it into the wild”.

That made people around Almost Iowa furious.

Sure, there was the callousness of releasing a dangerous animal upon an unsuspecting population but something else was hurt even more — maybe the town had become as settled and sedate as people secretly feared it was.

In oddest turn of this odd tale, Neil, a man without imagination, drove the sixty miles to Greene Iowa and paid the cat’s vet bills. He then took it home and cared for it in a large run he built in his woods.

People asked him why he did it.

“I just like the way he pisses off Fiona’s wild turkeys,” he said.

And when Neil says something, you know it is what he says it is.