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So, I’m walking out of the doctor’s office today, feeling smug to have my annual checkup behind me. What do I see parked in front of the building? A pickup with a cat in it. What’s odd about that, you ask?

This was no ordinary cat. This was a full grown (overgrown) bobcat. The driver of the vehicle was coming up the stairs toward me.

“Is that …yours?,” I asked.


“That’s a …” I really was too stunned to complete the sentence.

“It’s a bobcat. It’s perfectly tame. You can go down and pet it, if you want.”  (The windows were rolled down about 4 inches on all sides and the cat was prowling from one side of the cab to the other, as caged cats will do.)

“Did you, ah, raise it?” I asked?

“Yup. I bought it 10 years ago.”

“You…bought it?

“Yes, from a breeder. I picked it out of a litter. It’s perfectly tame. Go ahead and pet it.” The man headed for the inside of the building.

In short order a crowd had gathered and when the man returned, he stepped through the crowd, boldly opened the pickup door, snapped a leash onto said kitty and let it out. “Ya, come on up. You can play with him. He can’t hurt you, he hasn’t got any claws. Here’s how we play,” he said as the cat jumped onto a bench in front of the building clawing at the wood with his missing claws. The man proceeded to flap his hand annoyingly in front of said kitty’s face, eliciting play-growls (or were they real growls?) and big clawless paw swipes.

Mind you, it was amazing to see a bobcat this close up. But the cat is terribly overweight, his fur is thick and dull and looks like it needs a ton a grooming. I wouldn’t be surprised if the poor thing is diabetic.

Why would someone want to do this to an animal that was born to be wild? There’s no accounting for what motivates humans.

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