I wouldn’t want to be the bobcat.
Man’s best friend – and ours – the fabled Karma, was minding his own sweet, dear, noble, elderly business one afternoon when the attack took place. A bobcat emerged from the creek bed behind Katherine and Dan’s home and mistook Karma for a late lunch. Luckily, even though he was injured and developed an abscess, brave Karma is doing well, other than possibly taking offense at his owners’ new nickname for him – they’ve been calling him “Frankendoggie” as a result of his post-attack appearance.
Apparently, bobcats are more rule than exception in semi-rural southern CA. We just received a newsletter from our homeowners’ association with a warning to take measures to protect against bobcats and coyotes. I’ve never seen one in our part of town, but they are brazenly present in Katherine and Dan’s neighborhood:
The bobcat may have had his say that afternoon, but in the long run, I think he chose the wrong prey. After all, the whole idea of Karma is that what goes around comes around, right?