Bobcat

         I'm having fits as I attempt to aline the eyes for the bobcat rugshell.  I did have them installed nicely...and then decided that I could do better.  I should have been satisfied.  Frustrated, I took the stiff skin outside and broke it down into a nice pliable soft leather.  It feels like velvet and it floats like silk.  That should make a nice rug, no?! 

        I can't help thinking about my adventure the other day though.  I had been working for about four hours to install the tounge and jaws into the form, carving and measuring, carving and measuring, adjusting, carving and measuring...and then I finally got to glue it in.  I took my pieces out into the patio, looked at my skin lying on a Yellowjacket bow target, and happily applied the Mohr Jaw Juice.  They weren't kidding when they said it is stronger than critter breath.  I was so glad I didn't bother opening any windows indoors or turning on any fans.  As the application became more messy I ran inside to get a piece of carboard to keep it from curing to the table.  I was gone only ten seconds.  When I returned, I noticed that the skin wasn't on the hunting target. 

       Panic!  My uncle's skin was missing.  I knew I hadn't mislaid it- perhaps my little brother was playing a joke.  I investigated the crime scene.  Doggie prints...drag marks.  The bobcat had been pinched.  "I hope that Tannin makes it sick!"  I growled running across the property, attempting to determine which direction the thief could have flown. 

      Soon I spied the little, black mutt lying in the neighbor's front yard chewing happily on something...white...leathery...catlike.  I ran across the field hoping to reach her before she chewed too many holes in it and at the same time hoping she wouldn't take it and run.  As I crossed the property line I noticed two rough looking young men sitting in the carport.  One was hunched over on a stool while his buddy was giving him a hair cut.  He couldn't have had more than 1/4 of an inch of hair earlier that day but he was getting a haircut anyway.  I ignored them and snatched the pelt from Star, about ready to take her own hide for the deed. 

       As I turned to leave I couldn't help noticing the shock and surprise carved on the features of the two guys.  The one on the stool had his mouth hanging wide open, and the other was holding the scissors and electric razor limply in his hands.  

       "Sorry fella's...(nervous laugh)- Just had to get my bobcat!"  (swinging skin girlishly as I shook from anger, nervousness, embarassment, and the spookiness of the neighbor's place)

       "That's real?!"  The one administering the haircut exclaimed.  

       "Yeah!"  I replied. 

       "I thought it was a stuffed animal.  -Don't mind the dog, she swipes everything."

       I picked up my pace but he stopped me again.  "Hey!  Where'd you get that bobcat?!"

       Knowing how word had spread of my father shooting at the armed intruder I was tempted to say that he had killed it with his bare hands...or...poked it with a skinning knife...or shot it between the eyes at a hundred yards.  Knowing how vunerable I may have looked, I was tempted to say that I had shot it...but then I went ahead and said, "My Uncle shot it."  

       When I returned to the house, I put the skin indoors and immediately fixed the broken latch on the patio door.  I didn't want to loose any more skins to that pooch.    As far as it's come, the cat is salivating almost rabidly- I love that Jaw Juice, and I want his eyes to look angry.  This being my first bobcat and an open mouth mount....well, I give everything I do my best shot...er...uh...yeah- best shot.