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Natali’s Bohemian Style!
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Research and Real Life with Cougars
I spent time researching cougars for my last book, The Lost. Much of the story takes place in the Cascade Mountains where cougar and all sorts of other wildlife reside. I watched videos of cougar attacks, listened to their sounds, and learned about the habits of these animals.
Honestly, the critters are magnificent. From their sleek fur to the guttural growl, cougars are impressive creations, but I don’t need to see one face-to-face to have a good sense of what they’re capable of.
A couple weeks back, my husband and I were walking the dogs at the end of the farm. Here the fields turn to shady forest. Our two dogs are used to the varied scents of raccoons, deer, and squirrels. That night our black lab, Canyon, jumped along the hedge of blackberry bushes, his nose up in the air. Something new was in there. Something he hadn’t smelled before.
The chase was on. Canyon led Harper, our other dog, down a narrow deer path and out of our sight. They barked and howled while we contemplated what could possibly be hiding in the brush.
Then we heard it. The growl. The throaty, deep, unmistakable warning of a cougar.
Almost instantly, Canyon’s barks turned to cries.
At that moment, I couldn’t think of anything scarier than the growl of a cougar and the cry of a dog. But the absolute silence that followed was much worse. I mean, complete silence that seemed to stretch on for minutes. Images of badly mauled dogs flashed in my mind.
I grabbed a nearby t-post, pathetic protection, but all I had.
Finally, both dogs exited the dense brush. There was a bit of blood, but not much. Canyon had taken a swipe across the nose. We all walked home, grateful that our adventure ended without tragedy.
Canyon and Harper two years ago
The event may have been too much for our cougar. We haven’t seen or heard anything from her since, and that just fine.
Our experience was exciting, but it’s nothing compared to the run-in my characters Jenna, Ireland, and Vicky have while lost in the Cascades.
There are only a few more days until I draw the winner of the Amazon gift card. Don’t forget to sign up.
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That’s just how it is
My husband recently bought me a fun, Christmas-themed blanket for our bed. You wouldn’t believe how soft this thing is. Well, Hank (our aging yellow lab) and Azalea (our geriatric, balding cat) discovered the comfort of the new blanket and proceeded to spend every moment they could manage sleeping on our bed.
It didn’t take long for the new cover to be littered with critter hair. YUCK!
I pulled the blanket from the bed to wash and dry it. Now that may sound simple, but we’re having trouble with our dryer, which makes each load a test of my questionable patience.
That night we slept cozy with the fresh scent of dryer sheets filling our room. Awww.
The next morning my youngest daughter drug herself down the stairs. The fact that she had gotten herself up was a miracle in itself. Mornings are not her thing. I asked her why she was up already. Oh, how I wished I hadn’t even asked.
Apparently the sounds of the cat puking had disturbed her dreams. Yep, right there on my freshly washed blanket. Not only that, but it had gone all the way through to the sheets. I keep plenty of blankets on the bed so that was an accomplishment for the puker.
So I started and ended my day washing blankets and fighting the dryer. How fast things change.
That got me thinking, and you know when a puking cat gets you thinking, it’s probably not a good thing.
Last December everything looked perfect in my life. My career seemed to be swaying in a positive direction. We were all healthy. My relationships were strong. I was happy.
This December feels a bit like finding the cat has vomited on my fresh bedding.
But there will likely be another December in twelve months and maybe that one will find us in a easier time. I’ve been through enough to know that life goes on and good time show up again.
So we’ll enjoy Christmas regardless of the mess, and I pray you will have a sweet time this year too.
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