Bobcat seen near Sisters

"Go away and let me sleep," is what this bobcat in a tree near Sisters was probably thinking. Photo by Jim Anderson

So what would you do if you came around the curve in your vehicle early in the morning and suddenly spotted a bobcat climbing a tree? Would you stop? I'll bet you would; and that's exactly what Doug Ritchie of Plainview did.

"Honey..." he said quietly into his cell phone to his wife, Lauranna, "you've got to come and see this; it's a beautiful bobcat in a tree -- and be sure to bring the camera and video outfit with you."

Lauranna and Doug live adjacent to Highway 20, so it only took her a few moments to get to the place near Sisters where the bobcat had climbed a gnarly, old ponderosa pine for safety and shelter.

"Oh, he's so beautiful," Lauranna exclaimed quietly as she looked through her camera, snapping photo after photo, while Doug was quietly capturing the image of the cat in his video camera.

Up a tree is, of course, a likely place to find a bobcat in the Sisters country. But you have to be "Johnny-on-the-spot" to have such a delightful experience. Doug and Lauranna were the lucky ones.

According to the current edition of "Atlas of Oregon Wildlife," bobcats -- known to the scientific community as Lynx rufus -- can be found pretty much statewide, with the exception of the High Cascades, east of the Dalles, and the Willamette Valley.

No surprises there... Unlike the bobcats' close cousin, the lynx, (Lynx canadensis) that hunts the high country for snowshoe hares and such, bobcats live throughout the lower elevations.

They prey on small birds and mammals.

Being opportunists, chickens, turkeys and pet cats fill their bill just fine -- hence very few bobcats remain in the Willamette Valley.

But bobcats have other survival problems as well. Ignorant people who kill anything they think will compete with them for food and space kill bobcats (and other wildlife) without hesitation. But indiscriminate killing of any of Oregon's wildlife is not only a lousy idea; it's also against the law.

Bobcats fall under the category of fur-bearers, and as such there's a season on them. They can be "taken" only from December 1 to February 28, with a valid Oregon fur-trapping license and a $11.50 bobcat tag for each animal killed. There's a limit of five for this side of the Cascades, but on the west side there is no "bag limit."

Humans aren't the only ones to prey on bobcats; golden eagles and coyotes also take their share as well. I've found the remains of young bobcats in golden eagle nests.

Eastern and Central Oregon are strongholds for bobcats today. We still have enough open spaces for the cats to roam and make a living without too much conflict. But as seen in the case of the one Doug watched climbing a tree, they can't go undetected for long; there's a lot of us curious people out there looking for wildlife.

Back in the '70s a bunch of people weren't content to just go 'a-lookin,' they were out to kill bobcats for their beautiful pelage. Furriers in Germany and other places worldwide were paying top-dollar for prime bobcat pelts.

Consequently, not only was the bobcat "take" out of proportion with the population, but the methods used to trap and kill bobcats were also detrimental to golden eagles. In 1974 alone, over 1,600 bobcats were killed for the fur trade and with them an unknown number of eagles.

A bobcat-trapper called me one evening in the '70s, exclaiming he "...just couldn't kill the eagle he had in his garage." That's apparently what his trapper-pals had been doing when they accidentally caught an eagle in a trap set for a bobcat: kill it and bury it.

I had to promise the trapper I wouldn't call the State Police and then I went to his home and picked up the golden eagle. It had a horribly mangled left foot, the result of spending a few days in the bobcat trap. I took the eagle to a veterinarian in Bend who saved the bird's life.

It was impossible to keep the eagle in captivity, so I banded it with one of my Banding Lab bands and released it. Eight years later I received word from the Banding Lab that it had been picked up dead by a state wildlife officer in Northern California, shot by some miscreant.