Before we moved to East Tennessee, after selling our Phoenix home we lived up at our mountain cabin, which was out in the middle of an old growth forest on an unmarked forest service road, sixty miles from the nearest town. We loved it there, and it was a place of glorious solitude for writing, but our only phone service was run by a woman out of her kitchen -- which wasn't exactly the most dependable and forget about Internet -- and it got a little inconvenient having to arrange to meet the FedEx man at a certain milepost on the highway, especially during winter when blizzards could pile snow up six feet deep. True story, it once started snowing on Good Friday and by Easter morning my car was entirely covered and there was no way of telling where it was. Here's my sweetie trying to dig out the road so if we did find the car we could drive the sixty miles to church for Easter services. Needless to say, we didn't make it.
Anyway, it did serve as a good base of operations while we searched the southeast for a new state/town/house. Living up there, we had deer, elk, coyotes, foxes, bunnies, squirrels, hawks, owls, herons, and even a bald eagle visit nearly every day. Once, we were sitting on our front porch and watched a fox stalk a bunny across in front of us. What he didn't realize was a coyote was stalking him. Also, the occasional bear would wander by. All that nature was a bit like living on a Wild Kingdom TV show.
But one evening, I heard a cat screaming on the back porch and thought that Kitty Scarlett, our tiny, three pound insane Alzheimer's Siamese, must have somehow gotten outside. I opened the kitchen door and came face to face with a cougar! I'm not sure which of us was more surprised. I screamed. He screamed. Then, thank heavens, he ran away.
That was as close as I ever want to get to a cougar again. But I also wonder if he had snatched Kitty Scarlett, if our beloved hound/springer mix, Allie the Wonder Hiker, would've leaped in to save the day the way Chiquita the Chihuahua did for Rosie. Enjoy:





