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Wildlife Rehabilitation and Release

The Bobcat

by Janet Goodban
January 3, 2009

It was a Saturday morning like any other, when I received a phone call that a small injured bobcat needed to be picked up along Highway 20. I arrived at the corner of Hwy 20 and Penn Valley Drive about a minute ahead of fellow rehabbers Laurel and Eric Gunderson, along with a new recruit, Trent, who had been on his way to their house that morning to talk about becoming a raptor rehabber. He and his wife recently moved here from Southern California, where he did raptor rehabbing. He had just arrived at their house when they said “Come on, we’re going to rescue a bobcat!” to which he replied “OK,” as if he did this sort of thing every day, and jumped into their car with them.

The family who had called had been driving along Hwy 20 toward Grass Valley when they saw a cat dragging his hind legs alongside the road. They made a U-turn and went back; when they crossed the road to see if they could help it, they realized it was a young bobcat. It dragged itself across the highway and went under their truck, probably because it was the only refuge around. Major kudos to them to have (1) called us, and (2) waited in the cold for an hour until we arrived.

BobcatI grabbed my thick raptor gloves I had invested in last year (a necessity when being a raptor (bird of prey) rehabilitator), and which I always keep in the trunk of my car. Laurel and Eric had gloves as well, a large animal carrier, a thick towel and a blanket. The little cat (it couldn’t have been more than a few months old and about the size of my house cat) was terrified and huddled underneath the truck against the passenger side front tire. While Eric distracted it from the front, I went under from the back and grabbed it at the scruff of the neck as one would a kitten. Instantly it tried to turn itself inside out, hissing, growling, biting, scratching (I gave silent thanks to the makers of those good leather gloves!), but squirmed out of my grip and dragged itself toward the driver side of the truck, which was also toward the highway. The people who owned the truck were on that side to prevent it from going back onto the highway, so it turned and dragged itself back to the same tire. It had absolutely no use of its back legs, which was not at all a good sign. I again got a hold of the back of its neck and, determined not to let it go this time, managed to hold onto it. It suddenly seemed to realize it wasn’t going to be able to get away and stopped struggling (although was still hissing and growling), so I gently, but firmly, dragged it out from under the truck and into the carrier. We put it in Laurel and Eric’s car, and were off to the vet, who had been notified ahead of time and were expecting us.

Laurel and Eric were following me, and I was wishing I had lights and sirens on my car to make people get out of the way! Didn’t they know we had an injured bob-kitten we needed to get to the vets?? What was wrong with these people???? We finally arrived at the vet’s and were ushered around the back of the building into the isolation room, the cat continually uttering low growls at us. The doctor gave it a sedative, and we left it alone for about 10 minutes until the sedative took effect.

Once the little cat was out, we couldn’t help admiring her beautiful spotted coat, her little tufted ears, and remarking on how big her feet were. After a brief exam, the vet took x-rays of the cat’s legs and back, and then gave us the bad news. Not only was one of the back legs so badly shattered it probably wouldn't have been able to be saved, but her back was totally broken, with one part of the spine resting on top of the other part at the break. There was absolutely no help for her, and he had no choice but to put her out of her suffering.

I cried for this gorgeous, fierce little wild cat whose life was cut short way too soon. She was so young; she never had a chance at life. Despite being in such bad shape, she had an amazing fighting spirit in that broken little body that went beyond the physical. The only good news was that she probably was not in any pain, since her spinal cord had been severed. She was terrified and in shock, but was defiant until she couldn't fight the drugs that sedated her. After that, she wasn't aware of anything, and then just went to sleep forever. It was a sad, sad morning. That we couldn't save this incredibly fierce but beautiful little being was very hard for us to accept.

After leaving the vet’s, I took my dog, Kala, for a walk at Empire Mine State Park. As we walked in the cool, damp air, I couldn’t help but think that this little bob-kitten would no longer stalk through the wet pine needles in the forest looking for prey, feeling the cold air on her face, and hearing the birds scolding her overhead. She would never grow up and raise a family, or do all the secretive things that wild bobcats do. But thanks to the compassionate family who cared enough to take the time to stop and help her, she did not die a slow death by the side of the road.

It was her run-in with humans that caused her death, which is why I am so passionate about trying to save any wild animal or bird that needs help. Wildlife Rehabilitation and Release is a non-profit organization dedicated to the care and rehabilitation of injured and orphaned wildlife. Each year, our group of trained volunteers provides care for hundreds of native birds and mammals. To learn more about us, visit our website at www.cawildlife911.org. If you find an injured or orphaned animal or bird, please call our 24-hour answering service at (530) 432-5522. We have volunteers on call 7 days a week.

 

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