I was running on an unused logging road and came up behind a wild cat. It didn’t see me coming, so I got pretty close, maybe 20 feet away. It turned and stared at me for a second and then took off up a steep hill.
It was about 2.5 feet to the top of it’s head, a little smaller than a Labrador. It wasn’t a bobcat or lynx, because it had a long tail, but I don’t think it was long enough to be a mountain lions tail(I don’t remember seeing it curled). It had a brown coat and the tail had a stripey bit at the tip. 100% a cat from the body shape and movement.
But after looking it up, it seems like mountain lions basically don’t exist in new england, or at least are extremely rare. Its limbs were not as thick as the mountain lion images I’m finding online.
I thought maybe it was one of those megasized housecats, but this trail is separated from town by a deep and wide river, any housecat would have had to walk 3 miles and across 2 bridges(one of which is a metal mesh footbridge) or 7 miles along the logging road to get to the nearest house. It’s also below freezing out and there’s 5+ inches of snow on the ground.
It’s making me feel like I hallucinated this or something, because it doesn’t seem possible. Hopefully I’ll see it again now that I’ve looked at a ton of wild cat pictures. I was trying to remember as much detail as possible when I saw it, but I didn’t know what to look for.
can’t say what you saw. eastern wild cats are clever though. especially any that are still alive under current habitat conditions.
also, housecats are significantly more survivable in low temps than we tend to assume. I have a former feral that started squatting in a friend’s garage one winter during a severe winter storm (gusty wind, ice, wet) in the midwest around -5°F. he decided he likes housing and bowls of food but my friend had an overabundance of cats, so I came and got him and did the whole vet protocol.
like cats in general, he is a hedonistic baby who just wants to eat and nap and lounge cozy all day. but he is a crazy freak around winter time, bouncing off the walls to try and run outside if it’s above 10°F. he sits in the window and cries at me about it. he loves snow. he likes to get in little cubbies and weird nooks in the dark, chilly basement and stare out creepily year round. if the basement door is shut, he has figured out a way to wedge it enough to bypass it. the dozen or so times he has darted out in the heavy fallen/falling snow over the years, he runs into/through piles, trills, and dances like a weiner hoping I’ll chase him and “play” before eventually slithering under the steps and doing his creepy subterranean goblin routine in the frozen damp cold. he prefers to do this at night time.
he will sit there and ignore my inducements to come in, hanging out in the disgusting space under the porch for as much as 18-24 hours before a food bag shake will get him to slither out and come back in. I thought he would mellow with time, but he’s at least 8 now because he’s being doing this b.s. for that long. I used to worry more.