As I turned T-Hoe into the garage Thursday evening (POOF! You're a garage! Heh, heh. I crack myself up), The Pony shouted, "Look! A bobcat!"
Let the record show that only Wednesday morning, we saw a coyote cross the road in front of us at the turn-in to the school parking lot. My first in-person coyote. Right there in civilization. So when The Pony shouted about a bobcat, I was intrigued. I've never seen a bobcat in person, either. A panther, yes. Bobcat, no.
"Where? Where's the bobcat?"
"Over there! Under the carport!"
Um...under the carport? I backed up to get a look. I started wondering what we were talking about.
"You mean a Bobcat? Like a little dozer? Did Dad buy a Bobcat and not tell me?"
"No! The animal. Right there! I don't believe you can't see it!"
Then I did.
"Pony. That's a cat. A domestic cat. A foreign cat to us. But still a cat."
"NO! It's a bobcat! Look at it!"
"Get me a picture. Here. Though the open front window."
"I can't. I can't lean up. I really have to pee."
"Then get out and do it over the edge. Nobody will see."
"NO! I'll take your picture."
So the picture isn't great. But you can clearly see that it's a cat. Not a bobcat. The roaster pan of cat kibble was almost empty. Hick came over to see why we were so late. I asked him what he thought about our new cat.
"New cat? We didn't get a new cat!"
"There's one under the carport."
"No." He went to look. "There ain't no cat out there."
I haven't seen it since. But this much I know for sure. That was no bobcat.