Wild Nights and Wild Cats

“What was that?”

I woke up suddenly.

“What was that?” my wife, Annette, repeated worriedly, shaking me to my senses.

I mumbled incoherently as I clawed my way back to consciousness.

Something inhuman shrieked in the night. I heard it, now fully conscious.

“That!” Annette whispered loudly. “Did you hear? A scream. Every minute or two.”

“I hear it! What the hell?” I answered. And then, “Sounds like a woman in labour.”

Not impressed, Annette jabbed a sharp elbow into my tender ribs on behalf of all mothers in the world.

“Ok! Ok!”, I tried to redeem myself. “Someone being tortured?” My Stephen King imagination took over.

Another screech pierced the dark.

A beast, I concluded, with zero credibility. A hungry bobcat was on the prowl. Eventually, the marauding bobcat and its angry cat calls faded into the dark, and we drifted back to sleep.

Up with the sun. I logged onto the laptop and searched: “Bobcats.” I found an excellent Bobcat video and listened closely to the audio.

What we heard through the night was not a bobcat.

I was on a mission of discovery. I furiously Googled and Binged the internet, searching for other wildcats and soon found what I had been looking for.

Mountain lion.

I explored the Canadian cougar’s habitat and grew excited. The beast’s presence was a rare but not impossible event in cottage country, tucked in next to the ancient Canadian Shield.

I texted my wife, who was still catching up on her beauty rest in the bedroom down the hall. She responded.

Surprised. Shocked. And maybe a tad frightened. She texted.

You should let the girls know.

I messaged my three daughters, all of whom have young children, warning them about this menacing beast roaming among us.

I secretly enjoy surprising people with unexpected news. Don’t judge me.

The girls freaked out, textually. I could tell by their heavy use of “surprise face” emojis and “Home Alone” GIFs.

Middle daughter asks:

Did you check for paw prints?

No

I answered, followed by

Good idea!

I peeked through the window. It looked safe. I cautiously stepped outside, breathing in the crisp, cool air. Crystals of frozen dewdrops melted and dripped from the eaves as the rising April sun warmed the air.

Checking for cougar tracks triggered a memory, a time long ago…

***

I once applied for a job at a wildlife interpretation centre. At the interview, I knew all the animal tracks. When shown a plaster cast of a beaver track, I assumed, as anyone might, that this was the trick question everyone failed. I confidently informed the park ranger that this was a phony beaver track, a fake created by a practical joker pretending to be a beaver. The pathetic drag marks behind the tracks were a feeble attempt to mimic a heavy beaver tail.

The interviewer informed me that this was, indeed, an authentic beaver track.

Park rangers have no sense of humour.

***

I made my way around the cottage, scanning for tracks.

I stopped. There, resting wearily in front of the shed, was the evidence. An exhausted fox!

“The smoking gun!” I thought.

This poor animal had spent a disturbing night playing cat-and-fox Hunger Games. It had clearly outfoxed the hungry mountain lion and was now resting safely near our chalet.

It made perfect sense.

I messaged my findings back to the girls and to my sleeping spouse. The drama of this ordeal had everyone on edge. Annette messaged:

You should report this to the 1-800 Wildlife Sighting number.

I found the wildlife-sighting phone number and left a voicemail. It was Saturday morning after all.

“I would like to report a possible sighting of a mountain lion,” I reported. “We heard its cougar call last night. It sounds like the audio examples on the internet.”

I left my contact information and hung up.

My cell phone vibrated with texts from my animated daughters. One message caught my attention. Middle daughter again.

I think a fox sometimes howls strangely.

Ha! This daughter always has wild suggestions. A real imagination that one.

I humour her. I searched the internet: The sound that a fox makes.

The usual yelps and barks did not even come close to the shrieks we had heard.

Intrigued by the next Googled headline: “What a fox sounds like in heat,” I listened.

Suddenly, the elaborate, exciting story I’d created in my head collapsed like a house of cards.

Fun suckers. All of them.