Almost Wordless Wednesday: Bobcats

I compiled my "best" bobcat photos below. I'd be grateful, if you have time, if you could vote on your favorite for the trail camera contest that I'm entering.

#1: Walking softly

#2: Bobcat at boulder

#3: Bobcat captures rabbit on misty night

#4: Bobcat stares at camera

#5: Bobcat passes empty bear den

From the past few days:

Mountain at sunset

Snowy mountain and bluebird sky

A glorious winter day

K seemed alert, happy, and ready to hike this morning. Despite her leash, she playbowed, spun, and tried to convince me to romp with her on the way out of our clearing. After a couple of days of K seeming to be reluctant to walk much at all, her enthusiasm lifted my heart. Maybe, just maybe, she'll be ready to hike by my side for slightly longer distances before too long.

Today was a running day for R so I didn't get any trail time with him. But, as always, he made me burst into giggles when I heard snarls, growls, and snorts emanating from the bedroom. I knew what I'd find when I peeked in the door - R was having a wriggling conniption!

I had a spectacular snow bike ride. Our mountains beamed with beauty so I sought out viewpoints to gaze at them. I imagine the high peaks that we scaled this summer. Those are freezing arctic places now!

As I turned toward home, I pedaled hard through thick snow, enjoying feeling my muscles working hard to propel me forward. Some of you have asked what it's like to ride a snow bike. It depends on the snow conditions. Since starting snow biking, I fully understand why some native American languages have so many different words for snow.

In thick snow, it's incredibly hard work, requiring more leg strength than regular mountain biking. I hammer on the pedals as my huge tires churn through a substance that feels like mashed potatoes. Despite my extreme effort, I move forward at a slug's speed. In slick and cold snow, snow biking can be scary. Going downhill at speed requires a leap of faith that I won't hit an ice patch or a drift that will send me flying off the bike. Fortunately, after two seasons of snow biking, I've learned to anticipate these tough spots. My motto always is "live to ride another day" - so I just get off my bike and walk when the snow conditions seem too tricky. It's not worth risking my spine just to avoid walking a few steps.

The joy of snow biking is that I get to ride through gorgeous snowy aspen groves, deep forests and meadows at a time of year when most people are staying home. I see animal tracks in the snow all the time, drop my bike by the trail, and start following the tracks. I love following animal tracks and getting a glimpse of a wild animal's everyday life.

After my ride today, I checked some wildlife cameras. I'd put one in a new site, and my icon, the bobcat, sought it out to sit and preen as it took many photos of his gorgeous coat. It's rare that I get daylight close-up photos of a bobcat.

Look at the white and black stripes on the back of his ears and the tufts on his ear tips. What a magnificent animal. His luxurious dappled coat attracted many people to trap bobcats in the past. Fortunately, there's much less trapping now.

Just behind my house, a coyote trotted past a camera, showing off his thick coat and bushy black-tipped tail.

At exactly the same spot, a young bull elk sniffed the snowy trail.

Then, less than an hour later, a young mule deer buck sniffed exactly the same spot. I love the contrast between the two animals.

Time is marching by at warp pace. I'm so anxious for K to finally start mending and begin the rehabilitation process. After almost 10 weeks of this ordeal, it cannot happen soon enough for me. But, I also realize how thankful I am that she's simply by my side, regardless of how sedentary she must be.

A gift from a bear

It took fortitude to march out into the frigid air this morning. The air temperature hovered around 15°F and snow fluttered through the air. K seemed reticent, walking slowly and deliberately. On our leisurely stroll, she halted for every nuance of scent, at one point sniffing so hard that she sneezed.

Then, she stopped and looked at me imploringly. When she pins her eyes on me like this, I feel like my soul is stripped naked under her gaze.

The sun broke through and reflected off her stunning eye. I'm told that the star-like pattern is a special pigmentation pattern rarely seen in dogs.

Thanks to all of you for your kind comments about K's health situation. Today, I started gathering more information from the experts. They are asking the pathology lab to do another couple of tests so we can assess the risk of the infection spreading. I feel good about the path we're taking.

Today, after our stroll, K seemed happy to curl up with her treat-filled kong while R and I headed out for a short snow bike ride. This was my view during most of my ride with R. The boy is so fast, agile, and graceful! I literally laugh out loud while riding behind him.

After R's whirlwind ride with me, I headed out on my snowbike to continue tracking a bear whose paws I've been following for almost a week now. It all started with the tracks that I showed in a photo two days ago.

On the first day that I saw his tracks, the bear left the tracks of an animal moving fast with a definite goal in mind. His hind paws overstepped the tracks left by the front paws - an indication of a long step length and fast pace. In the photo below, you see, from bottom to top, a right hind track, a left front track, a left hind track, a right front track, a right hind track, etc. This bear was moving with purpose. My guess was that his purpose was to get to his den - it's very late for a bear to out and about.

I isolated one hind paw, and photographed it with my chemical handwarmer in the photo. The handwarmer is 3.25" long. The paw print is about 8" long, making this a big bear. That makes sense because he is doubtless a male bear because the females retire to their dens much earlier than late November!

On that first day of tracking the bear, I discovered that he'd marked several "bear whammy trees", small pine saplings that bears rub their backs on to scent mark territory - telling other bears to steer clear. If you've never seen a bear do this hysterically funny behavior, you might like to check out my videos (here and here) taken by a trail camera.

In the photo below, the bear whammy tree is broken off partway up by many bears leaning backward against it over the years, and the bear trampled the snow at its base when he reared up onto his hind legs to mark it.

Here was another whammy tree that the bear hit. I was exceedingly surprised to see that the bear was marking territory at this time of year. I thought that this energy-burning activity was primarily done during mating season.

The bear left fur on the pine sapling when he marked it.

Over the course of the days following my discovery of the bear tracks, I uncovered more parts of the bear's route. His tracks had degraded but were still obvious as huge caverns in the snow to the right of my snowbike track on this ATV trail. A deer had walked in the bear tracks as well.

I measured out his stride length using my boot prints as measuring sticks. My boots are about 10" long. So his total stride was about 45", indicating a fast walk by a fairly big bear.

Alas, after following his route for days, I became convinced that I'd lost his track and didn't know where his den was. I felt certain that he'd been zooming toward a den because he didn't eat or leave scat. Indeed, he brushed against rose bushes laden with rose hips without even sampling the berries. The lack of eating and defecating indicated that his metabolism was shutting down for hibernation.

After I'd given up on figuring out where his den was, I received a gift - a lead on where the bear might have gone. Today, I re-found his tracks several miles away from where I'd lost him previously. I spent a long time out in the frigid and windy air today, doggedly following bear tracks.

The first tracks that I found were obviously a couple of days old - they had a dusting of snow in them, and their edges were rounded by the wind.

Finally, I hit some tracks that had been left this morning! We had a dusting of snow last night, and his tracks were on top of the dust. The fact that I'd found old tracks, trampled into the snow days ago, plus new tracks made this morning, told me that the bear had a den very nearby.

I followed the tracks some more, and came upon an extremely churned up bear trail. The bear had come and gone many times near a huge boulder outcropping. The heavy use of this path suggested that his den was within spitting distance.

When I found the churned trail, I was running short of time, and I wanted to carefully think about how to proceed before barging in on his den. Bears are rarely bothered by a person near their den when they are settled into a winter sleep. However, this bear clearly wasn't settled yet. So, it seemed to soon to go close to the den.

I love tracking our animals! What a day!

Frequently in my life, when other things are dragging me down, nature and wildlife give me a gift. Today was undoubtedly a priceless gift from a bear!

Happy with a dash of worry

K and I took our short stroll this morning, looking for new ways to make our 200 yard walk interesting. After all, we've been limited to 200 yards for about 10 weeks, and we've covered every square inch within that distance of our house.

If she had control of the keyboard, I think that K would report that I tortured her this morning. Out in our glorious meadow, K drank up the scents of coyotes, bobcats, deer, and elk.

Then, I asked her to balance a piece of kibble on her snout. She seemed dumbfounded at first. How on earth could she focus on a piece of kibble with dangerous predators lurking all around us? I assured her that I'd keep watch, and she eventually managed the stupendous feat of balancing a round piece of food on her nose.

And, her reward for that feat - the piece of kibble! K complained that it was hardly adequate!

We received the final pathology report on K's amputated toe yesterday. The good news was that there was no cancer found anywhere in the toe bones (the previous report was based on a small fraction of the toe). That's worth celebrating! The bad news was that the bacterial infection is a particularly nasty and opportunistic type (serratia). Moreover, we didn't get "clean margins". They always amputate one extra segment above the bone where the infection or cancer is known to be, to provide a "clean buffer" between the bad stuff and the rest of the body. Unfortunately, the pathologist found that the "extra" toe segment that they amputated had already been invaded by the bacteria. Thus, we can't know if the bacteria had already gone even further up her forelimb... I think that I'll be talking with more vets in the coming days to figure out the best next step.

I feel a mixture of emotions. I'm so relieved that there's not a trace of cancer in K's toe but I'm anxious about the infection that is still inside my sweet K. It helps my heart to see that K seems happy and stronger by the day.

After my games with K, R and I headed out for a snow bike ride. Our ride started sunny and warm. The warm air felt like a luxurious treat for this time of year. Soon, however, the clouds poured off the Continental Divide and surrounded us. Snow started pelting out of the sky.

It kept snowing hard for the rest of our ride, tapering off just as we arrived home. After leaving R at home, I pedaled out into the light snow wearing many layers of winter riding gear. That was the signal for Mother Nature to return our world to a warm and sunny place. I roasted in my stiflingly warm clothing but still had a blast out in our world. I feel so lucky to live in a place where nature surrounds me, soothing my soul, even if I do miss having K with me out in the forest.

Yesterday, I posted a photo of some tracks that I'd seen and asked for guesses about what animal it was. The funniest guess was Mango! Alas, the animal who actually laid those tracks weighs at least as much as TWO Mangos. Over the course of a week, I followed his tracks for miles and miles but eventually his huge pawprints disappeared in an area with little snow. Today, I was thrilled to learn of yet another segment of his route, satisfying my endless curiosity about our wildlife. He's a big male black bear, heading for his den for the winter. And, although it's many miles from my home, I have a pretty good idea where his den is.

In today's post, I wanted to show you lots of fun photos from tracking our bear but my internet is so slow that it's took an hour to upload each photo above (yup, that's FOUR hours of uploading for this post). So, my bear stories and photos will have to wait until tomorrow. I learned lots of fun things about a bear's life by following the big guy's tracks around our forest.

Wish upon the moon

K and I have played more "balance toys on your head" games lately. She mastered the toughest toy of them all, purple octopus. He wobbles atop her head because his underside is convex. I think that she's hoping that she's allowed to hike more soon so that we can stop playing such silly games!

R had his fun rolling in the snow during our snow bike ride. He rolled and rolled, and then wriggled and wriggled. His silly muzzle is still needed because our obsessive boy was digging mushrooms out of the snow and eating them. The orange vest will be needed for only one more day because tomorrow is closing day of rifle season for deer and elk!

A week ago, during a snow bike ride, I found these tracks. Over the week, I've revisited the distant area several times to piece together the puzzle of this animal's movements. Now, the tracks have been erased by more snow, sun, and wind. I'll tell you more about it tomorrow. Any guesses about who made these tracks?

Today, at the end of a long exploratory hike with a friend, we watched dusk fall and the moon rise behind wispy clouds. I don't know if people wish upon the moon - but I did. I wished for K to return to full strength someday so that she and I can take forest and mountain hikes together again. I missed her during today's outdoor adventures.

Progress

Today, even I could tell from outside K’s bandage that we’d inched in the right direction. It looked and smelled much better. The vet later confirmed my impression during our appointment so I’m feeling a hint of optimism that the antibiotics are starting to knock down the infection. Her paw is still draining bad stuff but more slowly.

K sends her thanks to all of you who have sent her such nice messages!

I asked our vet how the bone infection probably started, and the answer is that no one fully understands bone infections. If I'd seen a wound on K's paw or even a badly cracked toenail in the recent past, the wound would have been a route for the bacteria to get to her paw bones. But, I know that she didn’t have a wound. Thus, the best guess is that she ingested or inhaled bad bacteria that survived in her bloodstream. For some reason, such as a slight injury to the bone, the infection settled in her toe. We’re still awaiting the final pathology report to be certain of the no cancer diagnosis and to find out what type of bacteria is inhabiting her paw bones.

This morning, K and I did our usual tiny stroll in the woods. She seemed determined to tell me that she felt better. I was alert enough to prevent her from scaling any dramatic boulders but I did let her stand on a small rock. She looks ready for a fight against the infection, doesn’t she?

During our walk, K voraciously inhaled invisible scents along our route. It turned out that a bobcat had visited after daybreak, giving us a rare glimpse of his fur in full daylight. Alas, he is determined to keep his tail turned toward my trail camera.

He entered our clearing and sniffed a stump that the coyotes like to mark.

Tail held at full mast, he scanned the area.

Then, he added a message to the stump. I wonder what it says? Maybe "Be feisty K, just like me!".

In addition, nearby, a parade of mule deer had passed another trail camera. Here, a curious mother and almost full-grown fawn posed! Do you see why they're called "mule" deer?

After my walk with K, I had my minimum daily requirement of Vitamin R when he joined me for a snowbike ride. When churning through snow on my wide-tired snow bike, I’m much slower than on dirt, and R zooms back and forth, making a circle around me, as I inch laboriously toward my destination. His grace and speed make me jealous. We arrived at a lookout point and relaxed in the windless air and warm sun.

We descended through a south-facing meadow that has already lost its snow carpet. Below R's chin, you can barely see our local ski area that is just opening.

Then, pleasantly tired and sated by breakfast, R snoozed. He does mellow out sometimes!

At the end of the day, I noticed green leaves bursting from the base of some mature Columbine plants. I wonder if the seeds dropped by the plant this summer have already germinated? The sight of green leaves poking up through snow filled me with hope.

Finally

We finally have some insight into what is attacking K’s paw bones. The preliminary biopsy results show a truly nasty bacterial infection that is resistant to many kinds of antibiotics.

My first reaction was “Woo hoo, it’s not cancer” (and I still feel that way - K has a better chance of beating an infection than osteosarcoma). My vet quickly tempered my emotions by telling me that the infection was extremely serious. The infection worries her and the specialists immensely. She told me that she feared that further amputation might be needed if the infection continues raging unchecked. And, her very greatest fear was that the infection could become systemic - a horrific thought. For right now, our goal is to slow the bacterial growth with a cocktail of antibiotics.

K seems slightly more subdued since the infection started making an ugly mess of the surgical site. In fact, the infection at the amputation site is purely a result of the infection eating away at K’s paw bones and other tissues inside her paw. So, it’s not a typical post-surgical infection because the surgery didn’t cause it.

She's obsessed with trying to lick her paw.  Our schemes to stop her are getting more outlandish by the day. An E-collar doesn’t work so we’ve gone to a breathable wool sock or mitten pinned to a t-shirt to keep it on her paw. Poor K looks humiliated by the get-up.

One other piece in the puzzle fell into place. K’s tendon rupture that happened about 8 weeks ago was probably caused by the infection. So, it makes sense that the tendon repair surgery didn't hold.

I am watching K like a hawk for signs that the infection is spreading while I await the final biopsy report. My vet has warned me that this battle will be a long haul. In fact, if we can control the infection, K may be required to take a cocktail of antibiotics for the rest of her life to prevent the virulent infection from recurring. That statement made it clear to me that I cannot expect immediate results.

In the meantime, K and I still take our tiny little walks around our clearing each morning. We don't travel far but we enjoy each minute.

K is as alert and excited about animal scents as ever. Indeed, our little walks seem to be the only time that she's not obsessed with licking her paw.

Yesterday morning, K and I saw bobcat tracks all around the house. The bobcat had marched into our clearing.

Then, he stalked rabbits endlessly. I didn't see any signs that he was successful. However, his tracks did appear right next to rabbit tracks in several spots.

I love these little wanders with K. I hope so very fervently that she recovers, and we have many more years of walking in the forest side-by-side.

Throughout this ordeal, R has continued to be my high energy whirlwind of laughs when he joins me for mountain bike rides. We visited a high point, Hug Hill, today, amidst a furious wind that whipped the snow into drifts. Atop the peak, R’s ears twirled like a weather vane in a gust and his hunter-orange vest stood straight up caught in the wind.

His ears flopped hilariously during a recall.

But, when I requested it, he stood regally atop snowy boulders.

I spotted a glittering peak in the distance. It glowed so brightly compared to the dark forest that I pedaled through. The snowy peak looked like a beacon, promising a light at the end of the tunnel. It represented my deep-seated belief that K will recover and even romp again someday.

The beauty around me inspires me to believe that anything is possible.