We were surprised when our doorbell rang last Monday (we weren’t expecting anybody and our neighborhood is pretty quiet). A man in a hard hat explained that his crew had been sent over by our electric provider to install bird guards on the power pole in our front yard. What a pleasant surprise!

He asked if we’d recently reported a dead raptor which is why they are usually sent out. I shared our awful electrocuted bobcat story. He said he’d never heard of such a thing. Neither had we, neither had we…

I watched as the men very carefully installed insulative boots to the top of the transformer as well as rubber insulation to the bare wires going to and from the transformer. The crew chief provided a play-by-play analysis of the proceedings and he reassured me that our power pole was now bird and critter safe. What a relief!

I appreciate that our electric provider has been utilizing these protective measures on all newly installed poles since 2002. I just wish they would retrofit the existing poles without waiting for an animal to die first. But I know there are tens of thousands of poles under their service area and the cost would be prohibitive. At the very least we are reassured that our power pole will kill no more!

Two nights ago shortly after midnight we were in bed just about to put our books down and turn out the lights. Then we heard a huge boom outside our window and our entire house went dark. Sliding into shoes, grabbing jackets, and flashlights we dashed outside.

Thoughts flew through my head: If this was a horror movie we’ll be chopped into pieces as we run out the door. Don’t be ridiculous! Could it be vandalism? Nah, we live in a nice quiet neighborhood. Perhaps something went terribly wrong with the electrical work we had done last month? I’m gonna be so mad at Richard! No, he’s a good guy, he wouldn’t make a big mistake. Is our house on fire? I hope not! Did a vehicle run into a power pole?

It was easy to see that our neighbors lights were still on. As we rounded the corner of our house we were relieved to not see any flames. A quick check of our digital meter showed it was completely blank. Nothing looked amiss with our connection so we used our flashlights to follow the power line back to the closest power pole in our front yard. Up on the transformer we made out the shape of a head with big ears. Our hearts sank as we realized that an animal had caused our outage. Since it was nighttime and the transformer was a good 25 feet off the ground we presumed it was a Great Horned Owl. The bird must’ve flown into the wires, dying as electricity arced through its body, the resultant power surge tripping the junction.

Since it was a work night for Lance he headed back to bed after helping me unplug everything just in case there was a surge when our power was restored. I sat up reading by candlelight, waiting for the repair man and was pleasantly surprised that our electric provider respond within the hour. When the electrician shone his bright spotlight up on the transformer I was shocked and horrified – it wasn’t an owl up there – it was a bobcat! A gorgeous, healthy bobcat. I was already incredibly sad thinking one of our neighborhood owls had died but I wasn’t prepared for that.

How in the world did a bobcat climb all the way up there? And why? It got worse when the electrician said that it has happened before. They’ve even had mountain lions and once a bear killed in that manner. How horrid, how terrible, how senseless! I think he was trying to reassure me when he said that the bobcat died instantly. I guess that is a slight relief, at least the animal didn’t suffer. I stood there in the cold, dark night crying as the electrician removed the carcass from the transformer and reconnected our power. He left the bobcat at the base of the pole citing company policy and informed me I’d have to report the incident to Arizona Game and Fish in the morning.

I dreaded waking up the next morning – I would have to tell Lance, I would have to call Game and Fish, and I would have to see the bobcat in the daylight. After Lance left for work I made the phone call. Game and Fish had no interest in the bobcat’s body and they gave me permission to bury it. I figured it was the least I could do. So I took a deep breath and drug myself outside to bury that poor animal. I had plenty of time to think as I dug through rocks and clay. This bobcat could’ve been the one that we’ve sighted several times on our property. This could’ve been the one that touched noses with our cat Rookie a couple years ago. With such huge paws and a distinct size advantage the bobcat could’ve easily killed our cat, instead he nonchalantly sauntered over to the nearest tree, lifted his leg and peed.

The worst part was picking it up. I knelt down by the bobcat – it looked like it was sleeping, there were no signs of trauma. It was an amazing animal. Half of me hoped it would wake up, startled by my touch. Sadly I slid my hands under its cold, soft fur and carried it to its grave. Our bobcat will always have a home here under the canopy of a large palo verde. The evening before had been a very dark night indeed.