By Nancy Cowing Umphres

Pity the poor snake, bird, or opossum that enters an adult bobcat's cage. Skunks, on the other hand, may come and go at will without even a snarl of protest from the spotted felines who cower at the farthest corner of their pen. A skunk may munch on the leftovers of the bobcats' breakfast, defecate in the cats' bed, and give a defiant, aloof snort in the cats' general direction on their departure.
Minime and Edge came to our rescue center as captive-held bobcat kittens. We originally named them Bono and Edge after the musical group, U2, but somehow Bono became Minime as it seemed to suit his personality, and the name stuck. While Edge was the picture of health, Minime was just the opposite and made many trips to the vet and had multiple problems that slowed his development, but in time he was able to overcome them and grow into a beautiful adult male bobcat.
I knew the time had come to release Minime. I cleaned his cage and came upon little piles of assorted animal remains. Bobcats will cover uneaten food to keep for later, and Minime had a very large variety of half eaten carcasses. No wonder he hadn't been so eager at feeding time. Only Skunky the wild resident skunk came out of Minime's cage unscathed, leaving behind only her droppings.
I have found that making our young mammal visitors comfortable with pet taxies eases the cage cleaning, vet trips, and releases. The pet taxi is the first nest and eventually becomes the special treat center so that capture is an easy process. I open the outdoor cage, place the taxi inside, and if all goes well, the animal enters without hesitation.
The morning of Minime's release went off without a hitch. He entered the travel cage, I shut the door, and I hauled him to the pick-up. I placed him in the cab next to me and loaded his water and food into the back. He was becoming increasingly agitated so I rushed and started the engine. This did not sit well with him so I covered his cage, thinking that this would calm him, and it did for about a mile; then all hell broke loose.
I suddenly realized that the pet taxi door was not going to hold this terrorized adult male bobcat for much longer, and the thought of being caught in the cab of a pick-up with a loose bobcat was not something I really wanted to experience. I held the weakening door of the cage closed with one hand and I managed to make a U-turn with the other and head back to the center.
The sweat was running from all pores as we pulled up in front of the rescue center. Minime had calmed a bit, but I didn't hesitate and rushed him back to his cage before he started up again. A much stronger cage was obviously needed, but not today; the release would have to wait while we both recovered.
Two days later I tried again. This time I used a heavy duty live trap. I tempted him in with a favorite toy and was thrilled that he entered without hesitation. I double wired the door for safety and put him in the back seat of a pick-up. The roads are rough out to the release site so our progress was slow, but Minime stayed fairly calm. I'm sure my feelings of panic on our previous attempt didn't help his demeanor at all. Animals are very sensitive to strong emotions.
We arrived at the release site none the worse for wear. I hauled the cage out of the car, cut the security wires off, took a deep breath, and opened the door. Minime rushed out and headed to the closest bush, while I fumbled with my camera trying to get some decent shots. As I hauled water, bowls, and food toward the shelter, Minime followed me at a safe distance, camouflaged against the black brush and sage. He noted my placement of food and water as he sniffed the smells of other wild beings.
I watched him as he discovered a snakeskin caught on the thorns of a cactus. He hesitated, then tentatively tapped the skin with his large paw. I walked along toward the thicket with Minime not far behind. I half crawled into the cool shade and sat quietly waiting for my feline companion. He soon entered silently into the cover of tree and bush. He spoke to me a soft bobcat greeting and I answered him.
The memories of long nights with a sick little kitten came to me as I watched him disappear from view. Instincts were flooding into him as he made his way along the gully. I knew I would probably never see him again no matter how many times I returned with food, and that is as it should be.

(The Zapata Wildlife Rescue Center can be contacted by mail at 6812 STOP 68A, Zapata, TX 78076-2913, by phone at (956) 765-8526, or e-mail at dreams@zapata.border.net. Those interested in visiting should call ahead for directions.)