My neighbor just down the ridge at the hermitage looking at the claw-sharpening marks above his head on a telephone pole. It seems this cat is living under the hermitage up the mountain. Hey! That’s my hermitage! Anyway, they sent this picture below as well of the paw prints in their garden. Note that this represents two overlaying prints, but that, nonetheless, the one on the top is fully six inches across. This is a monster cat. This isn’t the panther I saw twice and had a rather frightful experience of a third time. No no. This is a mountain lion. Very large. Very heavy. As heavy and big as myself. On the ruler, go from inch 3 to inch 9. Mature cats have 5 1/4″ prints. These are six inches across. Yikes!
This paw print thing has been going on for some weeks. I’m sure he’s been watching me target practice with the Glock 19 and thinks that I’m useless enough not to worry about. Goodness! There’s a super honest comment about my shooting I didn’t care to get! ;¬) I’m sure he’s thinking that I would be a good menu item for breakfast on my next day off. Believe me, the last thing I would ever want to do is to kill one of these beauties. That would just break my heart. Anyway, I’m really happy that he’s at the hermitage. It makes me think that the Lion of the Tribe of Judah, the last one standing after the epic battle of Calvary, full of scars in hands and feet and side and brow, scars covering His body, but victorious, still standing though as slain… is with me at the hermitage when I’m there. (See Revelation 5:6, the lion as the lamb, standing, but slain).
And He is with me at the hermitage, as I bring Holy Communion to grandma neighbor just there below the hermitage. And then I am reminded that I’m no Saint Jerome.