Wild Spirits

by Rosa Jordan

  She looked around for Danny and saw that he and Kyle were helping Pete and Jackson bring the tranquilized cougar out of the camper and put it into a cage for transport — a cage much larger and heavier than the carrier Wendy was using for the bobcat. When the Game and Fish guys staggered off to their truck with the heavy burden of cougar and cage, Kyle and Danny returned to where Wendy waited with the bobcat.

  “I’ve got to get back,” Kyle said. “Can you and Danny handle it from here?”

  Danny picked up the carrier. “Sure,” he said, and grinned at Wendy.

  “Definitely,” she said. “Danny and I are old hands with bobcats by now.”

  22

  JUST VISITING

  Wendy intended to drop Danny off at his house, but it was after dark when they got there, and there were no lights on. “Looks like nobody’s home,” Wendy remarked.

  “It’s Friday night,” Danny said. “They’ve probably gone out to County Line.”

  County Line was a bar about twenty miles away, just across the line in the next county. People like Danny’s parents went there to drink and dance, because their county was “dry,” meaning it had no bars or liquor stores. Danny was now thirteen, so of course he didn’t need a babysitter when his parents went out. Still, Wendy thought, being in the house by himself, with nothing to look forward to but his parents coming home at some late hour, possibly drunk, didn’t seem like a nice way to spend the evening.

  On the spur of the moment, she said, “How about spending the weekend at our place?” At Danny’s delighted but uncertain look, she added, “Run inside and get your toothbrush. And leave a note for your mother.”

  They next stopped by Dr. Singh’s house and got some medicine that could be put in the bobcat’s food to kill the ticks, fleas, and worms it surely had from living in such filthy conditions.

  “It’s a female,” Danny observed as they arrived at the farm and unloaded the carrier onto the front porch. “Are you going to put her in with BB to keep him company?”

  “Oh no!” Wendy exclaimed. “We’ll have to keep her well away from the other animals until we get rid of the parasites. We want to be sure she doesn’t have some disease. There’s a cage over there next to the garage we can use.”

  It was pure luck that the cage was empty. Not an hour before Kyle’s call, Wendy had decided that the pair of foxes were old enough to manage on their own, and them let them go in a large, privately owned forest whose owner didn’t allow hunting on his property. She had then disinfected the cage and left it out in the sun to dry. It would do quite well to quarantine the junkyard bobcat.

  It would have been convenient for Wendy to have the bobcat near the house to keep an eye on it, but given how mistreated this particular cat had been, she decided it would feel safer if it was away from humans. So she and Danny lugged the cage to the back side of the pasture, far enough from the house that human smells wouldn’t upset the bobcat and far enough from the llama pen that bobcat smells wouldn’t upset Machu, Picchu, and Dolly.

  The area Wendy chose for the quarantine cage was the only part of Wildtrax Farm where there were a few big trees remaining from the forest that had once covered the area. The cage, which was three feet wide, three feet high, and six feet long, had short legs that put it up in the air about a foot, enough so feces and urine would fall through the wire onto the ground.

  “I would never keep an animal very long in a cage this small,” Wendy told Danny. “But for quarantine, it’s better to have a small cage, in case you have to catch the animal again to medicate it.”

  It didn’t take long to set up the cage put food and water in it. Danny looked at the little bobcat, still asleep in the carrier. “Shall I put her in now?” he asked.

  “Not quite yet,” Wendy said. “Just wait here with her till I get back.”

  Wendy ran to the house, and came back a bucket of water, a wash cloth, and a brush and comb she used to groom animals. Then she pulled the drugged animal out of the carrier and showed Danny how to work the burrs and matted areas out of its fur, along with any ticks and fleas they found.

  “I’ll work from her head and you work from her tail. Be careful, but hurry!” she told him. “We’ve got to get her cleaned up before the tranquilizer wears off, because when she wakes up she’ll be scared and dangerous. By that time we want to her safely shut up in the quarantine cage and us nowhere in sight.”

  They spent ten minutes picking ticks, fleas, and burrs out of the bobcat’s matted coat. Then Wendy wiped it all over with a damp cloth, the way a mother cat might wash its young with her tongue. Finally she and Danny gently lifted it into the quarantine cage.

  “This makes me sick!” Wendy muttered. “Here’s an adult bobcat so starved that she doesn’t weigh as much as BB, and he’s not even half grown!”

  “When she’s well, can she go free?” Danny asked.

  “I hope so. First we have to find out where she came from, because it’s illegal to let a bobcat that’s captive-born or hand-raised go back to the wild.”

  “She sure didn’t seem very tame,” Danny remarked.

  “No, and that’s a good sign. So for now, let’s just think of her as a visitor,” Wendy said as she draped a piece of canvas over one end of the cage.

  Danny peered in at the cat. “That’s good. It makes it kind of like a cave.”

  “That’s the idea,” Wendy said. “We want her to feel as safe as possible. If she wakes up and sees us, that’ll scare her, too. Come on. Let’s go before she wakes up.”

  As they crossed the pasture back to the house, Wendy warned, “Tranquilizers are hard on a wild cat. Especially one in as bad shape as this one. We might very well find her dead in the morning.” Wendy put her arm around the boy’s shoulder and added, “I’m telling you this, Danny, just so, if she does die, you’ll remember that we did everything possible for her.”

  “I don’t think she’s going to die,” Danny said in his serious, unsmiling way. “Even asleep, I bet she knows she’s in a safe place.”

  23

  DOLLY LLAMA

  Danny was right about the junkyard bobcat. When they went out early next morning to check on her, she was wide awake and had cleaned both her food and water dishes. Wendy opened a small slot in the cage and dropped in fresh food, while Danny poured water through the wire to refill the water dish. Then they left the cat alone, hissing and snarling, as it devoured the meat.

  “I sure wouldn’t want to fight her for the refrigerator,” Danny said in an awed voice. “She’s got more hiss and growl than Buzzsaw Bob.”

  “That’s because she’s a grown cat, and scared to death. BB’s just a kitten, and has never learned to fear humans. Even with Kyle towering over him, yelling at him to get the hell out of the refrigerator, BB just lies there looking up at him with those bold gold eyes, not the least bit worried.” Wendy chuckled. “Look at him over there now, standing on top of his den, trying to figure out what we’re up to.”

  “Do you think he knows there’s another bobcat close by?”

  “For sure.” Wendy pointed to the llamas. “They know it, too. It’s critical to animals’ survival that they know what’s going on in their environment. They’re looking, listening, and smelling all the time. They’re used to sharing the outdoors, even with predators. As long as long as the predator keeps its distance, they’re not too concerned, but if it starts moving close, uh-oh!”

  “How did you learn so much about animals?” Danny asked.

  “Same way as you, Danny. By reading about them and taking care of them and talking to people who know more than I do. I learned a lot working at Red River.”

  “How old do you think I’d have to be to volunteer there?” Danny asked.

  Wendy looked him over. He was now as tall as she was and had muscled out quite a bit. He could certainly do the
work. “How old are you now?” she asked.

  “Thirteen,” he said, and added quickly, “Almost fourteen.”

  “Tell you what. When you turn fourteen, I’ll take you to Red River Ranch and you can ask. But don’t get your hopes up,” she warned. “Most of their volunteers are at least sixteen.”

  At Danny’s disappointed look, she added, “In the meantime, I’m sure glad for your help around here. What do you say we start on Velvet’s enclosure today?”

  They worked hard all morning, and by noon the fence posts were in. The pen wasn’t as big as Wendy would have liked, but she planned to expand it later, when she could afford the materials. Meanwhile, little Velvet would have more space to run about than she did indoors.

  They broke for lunch and headed toward the house. Wendy was thinking about what more was needed to finish the pen and whether they could get it done by tomorrow afternoon, when Danny spoke. “What’s wrong with the llamas?”

  Wendy shaded her eyes and looked toward the llama pen. The two males were moving around in an agitated way, their attention focused on Dolly. Dolly herself seemed to be … what? What was she doing?

  Suddenly Danny shouted, “Look! It’s been born!”

  At the same instant Wendy saw what he saw: the rump of a small, russet-coloured llama, with its head under Dolly’s belly, nursing.

  “Oh no!” Wendy shouted. “A baby! We’ve got to get it out of there! Male llamas sometimes kill newborns!”

  Wendy could see that Dolly was trying to keep Machu and Picchu away. She might not allow Wendy to come near, either. “Run to the house and get some carrots,” Wendy instructed Danny. She started walking toward the llama pasture — walking, not running, because she didn’t want to startle them. When she reached the fence she waited, speaking quietly to Dolly.

  When Danny returned, she said, “Take the carrots over to that side of the corral and see if you can attract Machu and Picchu to you. I’ll try to get Dolly and the baby out.”

  Although Dolly stomped her feet nervously when Wendy came toward her, she didn’t move away. Wendy caught hold of her halter and tugged her gently toward the gate. Dolly allowed herself to be led — sort of. She stopped at each step and looked around to make sure the baby was still close by. If it lagged a step behind, she would not go one step farther until it was again glued to her side. At last Wendy got Dolly and the baby out of the pen, and shut the gate behind to keep Machu and Picchu in.

  “It’s okay,” she called softly to Danny. “Now you can come see it. Not too close, though. We don’t want Dolly to feel threatened.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Danny breathed. “The most beautiful cria in the whole world.”

  “What’s that word you’re using?” Wendy asked. “Cria?”

  “Baby llama,” Danny said. “As soon as I knew she was going to have a baby, I looked it up on the Internet, so I’d know what to call it when it was born.”

  “You knew she was going to have a baby?” This Wendy found incredible. How could he have known, when she didn’t?

  Danny blushed under his tan. “I saw them, uh, you know.”

  “When?” Wendy asked, bewildered.

  Danny thought a minute. “A year ago, I guess. It was right after we got them, when Machu — he’s the dad, you know.”

  “You saw them breeding?”

  “Well, she was lying down, the way llamas do. And Machu sat down behind her. Just like the picture on the website.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Wendy laughed. She was amazed, but also proud. She was the one who had encouraged Danny to use the Internet to learn about animals, and now he knew things that even she didn’t know!

  With an embarrassed grin, Danny said, “I thought you saw them, too.”

  “I guess I did see them, but didn’t know what was going on. I supposed llamas bred just like cows and horses. I didn’t know they did it sitting down.” Wendy stroked the baby llama’s soft orangey fur. “A cria, huh? What are we going to name her?”

  For a minute they stared at the little llama in silence. Then Danny said, “Tomorrow’s Halloween.”

  At first Wendy didn’t get the connection. Then it hit her. “Are you thinking that a cria with orangey fur, born the day before Halloween, might be named Pumpkin?”

  Danny turned toward her with one of his rare pure-and-joyful smiles. “Yeah, Wendy. That’s just what I was thinking. Pumpkin.”

  Kyle, who had worked the evening shift as usual, had slept in, but he was up now. Wendy could see him watching them out the kitchen window. He was probably trying to figure out why they were spending so much time at the llama pen instead of coming in for lunch. She waved for him to come out.

  “Ahhh,” Kyle said, when he saw the cria. He stood there like the rest of them with a sappy grin on his face, enthralled with fuzzy little Pumpkin. He noticed a couple of big horseflies buzzing around the cria’s legs, and said to Wendy, “Better put some insect repellent on that baby. Otherwise the flies will drive her crazy.”

  Wendy walked over to where she and Danny had been working and got the spray can of repellent she had brought out to keep the bugs from bothering them.

  By now Dolly seemed comfortable having them around admiring her baby, so Wendy thought nothing of it as she bent over to spray repellent on Pumpkin’s legs. But the hiss of the spray can startled the little cria. It leaped forward in fright. Wendy glanced up to see Dolly’s reaction. What she saw was Dolly pucker her llama lips and — that was the last thing Wendy saw for several minutes. A big gob of spit splatted her right in the face, burning her eyes and causing her to yelp in surprise.

  Kyle quickly ripped off his T-shirt and handed it to Wendy to wipe away the spit, but he and Danny were laughing so hard they could hardly stand up.

  “You guys!” Wendy howled. “Stop laughing! Llama spit is nasty.”

  “Dolly didn’t do it on purpose!” Danny defended the mother llama.

  “What do you mean she didn’t do it on purpose? She aimed right for my face!”

  “She was just trying to protect Pumpkin,” Danny insisted. “It was that spraying sound. Maybe she thought it was a snake hissing.” He gazed at the cria, which Dolly had moved a few feet away from them. “If I had something that beautiful, I’d protect it, too.”

  “You do, Danny.”

  “Do what?”

  “Have something that beautiful. After all,” Wendy reminded him, “Machu is the father, and Machu is yours. That means Pumpkin’s half yours.”

  24

  FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY

  It was a Saturday afternoon, and since Kyle was working, as he sometimes did on the weekends, Wendy would have been alone on the farm, except that she had again invited Danny to spend the weekend. Looking after all the animals was a lot of work, and he was a great help.

  Besides the junkyard bobcat, who they’d had for three months, they still had Buzzsaw Bob and Lucky. Two other cats were living at Wildtrax, now, too — a serval and a caracal. They had been donated to Wendy — or as Kyle put it — dumped on her — after some new laws were passed that required owners to build special extra-strong enclosures for exotic cats. The owner said he didn’t have the money to do that, so he had given them to Wendy. Then she had to figure out where to get the money to build not only the kind of enclosures the law required, but extra-large ones that she thought any animal ought to have if it was going to spend its whole life in captivity, as the caracal and serval would have to. There was no possibility of them ever being released. Even if they could have survived in the wild — and they couldn’t, because both had been born and raised in captivity — they were species native to Africa and it was against the law to release animals not native to North America.

  Wendy was thinking about people who got exotic animals like servals and caracals and bobcats with the mistaken belief
that they would be good pets. Maybe such an animal would be good pet if the owner were willing to spend thousands of dollars creating a proper environment for it and spend a lot of time with it and put up with it behaving like a wild animal, but most people were not willing to do any of that. That was why such animals, once they got past the cute-kitten stage, usually spent the rest of their lives in cages. And would be lucky to have cages as large and well-landscaped as the ones Wendy built for the animals she adopted.

  Wendy was also thinking about Kyle, and how he hardly ever complained about all the animals, and how one reason he often worked weekends was to earn extra money so she could afford to build nice big enclosures, call the vet whenever he was needed, and otherwise give her animals the best kind of care.

  And she was thinking about Danny, who was, as of today, fourteen. That was why she had again invited him to spend the weekend. She thought his mother might say no, that he should stay home because they were going to do something special for his birthday, but Mrs. Ryan didn’t even mention it. So Wendy made her own plans, beginning with the birthday cake that she was making right now. She looked out the kitchen window and saw Danny in the field playing with Pumpkin. He always went first to the llamas, then took Velvet for a walk, and then visited each of the cats.

  Wendy was just taking the cake out of the oven when Danny came in. He didn’t bound in, the way most boys his age would when they were happy and excited. Some part of Danny always seemed to be held in check, like he was never sure how welcome he was, or if the welcome he got yesterday might be gone today. Even though he came into the kitchen quietly, he did seem cheerful, as opposed to the hangdog look he had some days when things were bad at home. Or so Wendy suspected.