Yesterday in Connecticut, a camp counselor sleeping in a hammock on an island just off the shoreline was attacked by a bobcat. (Gift link to New York Times article.) He and two other adult counselors were able to fight off and kill the bobcat (which ended up testing positive for rabies). What makes the story slightly amusing for me was this bit.
The counselors were leading a group of youth campers participating in the state’s Wilderness School, a year-round program for people ages 13 to 21 who have had traumatic experiences or are in need of extra support.
I can’t imagine that experience helped any of the campers deal with their trauma.
Why not? Sounds like a feel good, “can do” story to me. They can regale wide eyed campers around the campfire with tales of overcoming adversity. Skin the cat and make a hat, etc.
I’d say it depends a lot on how the campers felt about the counselors. Some might be darn glad the counselors were attacked by a rabid bobcat, and just sorry the bobcat didn’t finish the deal.
I also just can’t let this thread go by without citing the applicable vintage xkcd:
Bobcats are only slightly bigger than house cats. They weigh about 20 pounds. Three adult humans fighting off a bobcat doesn’t seem very impressive to me, although there is certainly a risk of some nasty bites and scratches, and unpleasant treatment if it’s rabid.
Now, if they fought off this kind of bobcat, that would be impressive.
According to Wikipedia, an irrefutable source, they range up to 40 pounds and are about 20 pounds on average. A larger one would be a real bastard to fight.
As noted above, bobcats are larger than that. And in terms of fight, pound for pound they are a lot more ferocious than any alley cat. You’re in danger of having your face eaten, not just some nasty scratches from a big kitteh.
I’ve been given to understand that if an animal has rabies, it doesn’t show aggressive behavior in a normal sense, e.g. defending itself if cornered or feeling threatened, but otherwise going on the defensive rather than offensive. It will go full-on Cujo in an a weird or unpredictable way that makes it difficult to defend yourself.
“I didn’t know bobcats would eat my face” sobbed man who absolutely did not vote for the Bobcats Eating Faces party, he just went to sleep in a hammock ow jesus christ what the fuck man, what the fuck?
Ferocity is an under-appreciated phenomenon, I think. It’s one thing to know rationally that you are much bigger and heavier and can in theory deliver a solid kick or whirl the thing in to a tree or whatever, and it’s another to actually be confronted with a ball of screeching, furious knives that absolutely will not stop trying to rip your face off. On a couple of occasions in my youth I’ve been chased by a dog (“he’s never done that before”) and insofar as I was thinking straight at all, I was taking an inventory of where my arteries were. (And, let’s not lie, as a guy I was thinking about a dog whose head was approximately hip/waist height, and what bits of me it might bite first). This is the sort of thought that encourages hesitancy and doubt rather than full commitment to the needs of the moment.
For that matter, five or ten pounds of housecat can give you a lot worse than just some nasty scratches, if the cat’s really serious about it. Most people who’ve been bitten or scratched by a housecat were dealing with a cat who was holding back, and just trying to hurt them enough to make them let go, or to make them stop doing whatever was displeasing the cat. A bobcat probably isn’t going to be holding back, and a rabid bobcat definitely isn’t going to be holding back.
