The Lohi Bher Cougar

If truth be told, the incident mounted to not even a sliver of what it has been boasted to be. But of course, pointing that out would ruin the much built, mythical hype. It would give mothers one less threat to discipline their children. It would give those children one less incident to recall when they grow up. Not to mention it would reduce the zoo sales considerably.

The affair had been quite mundane, really. The zookeeper at the Lohi Bher Wildlife Park had simply forgotten to inspect the wire meshing at the back of the cage (as the human who must dutifully err in at least some responsibilities in life.) And the cougar (as the animal that must dutifully act without wisdom at all times in life) simply slunk out from the opening that gaped upon its inquisitive nose from between the linked metal fencing and the concrete step. It did, after all, seem like a better substitute than to face the rowdy boys at the front of the cage that wouldn’t let it nap in peace.

Everyone recalled in their fine (or rather imaginative) memory that the cougar must obviously have had prowled out after dark, slinking in the moonlight. It has been using the darkness as a camouflage and had specifically chosen this midnight hour for a blood bath because the zookeepers would be away after completing their duties and the path would be clear. No one entertained the opinion, or rather fact, that the poor, dumb animal had probably been dwindling at the back of the enclosure having been jeered and taunted by the usual zoo visitors at the front where he was meant to be on display. There he had found the gap by accident and had slipped through, only out of mild curiosity and with no future plans whatsoever.

When the zookeeper came to feed the animals that evening in his usual rounds he first peered in denial. Through the metal bars and hay strewn floor the cougar would always be there, out of glance. You would have to look just a bit more closely and the slight movement of the fur twitching in the zoo-implanted foliage would eventually give it away. But after some time and eventual probing around the pen, the zookeepers’s denial led way to confusion and then ultimately shock. The feeder did not lose a moment in swiftly turning on his heels, his mind yelling at him to flee the enclosure as fast as he could. Yet if you look at it, the only safe place at the time was the cage where the cougar was not.

Once at a safe distance and with his adrenaline level down, the zookeeper’s fright changed to a a frenzied excitement. That of having the power to shake people with some exceptional news that you are about to convey to them. He hurriedly made his way to the manager’s office in an air of self importance.

The news spread like wildfire. The locality’s news channels immediately turned to capture videos of their heavily primped and preened reporters, who gave the news in reportive voices and bulging eyes, repeating again and again in circles that the sole wild cat of the Lohi Bher Wildlife Park had escaped (as if the poor cat had actually considered a prison break) due to ‘negligence and neglect on the zoo’s part’ which was officially deemed ‘underqualified and irresponsible’. They had apparently ‘failed to serve the citizen’ and offer them the ‘Right to Protection’ according to the most chatty and whimsical talk show host of the region.

Meanwhile the cougar, perhaps, roamed in the nearby woods confused and hungry. It would not know how to hunt and the change in setting would have brought with an equal amount of confusion. It would have sulked around, finding only water to appease its appetite while its ears would be sharply roving the landscape like antennas, on high alert for potential threats.

News casters warned residents near the zoo to lock doors and windows and to avoid coming out at all costs. Adults internally laughed back at their television screens with the common ‘it won’t happen to us’ attitude all the while letting worried glances stray to their children who were in their turn equally affirmed that the cougar had come out especially to tackle them in their bed that night. All the while the cougar howled in solitude.

Yet, that was only the tip of the iceberg. Then began the sightings.

“Rawalpindi 15.”

“Yes, hello…I need to report a sighting of the cougar. I think I just saw it going through the neighbour’s garbage cans in the alleyway.”

“Rawalpindi Police. What seems to be the matter?”

“HELLOO……Helloo..?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, so there’s this weird growling sound coming from my backyard…I think it’s the loose…animal…the one from the zoo?”

“Rawalpindi Emergency.”

“I need to report an animal sighting. I was driving through Guzara Woods and I saw this huge furry…thing in the trees. I think you should check it out.”

People’s ‘thinks’ from all over town were received by the town dispatchers and the list elongated in length and vividness till it was not possible for all of them to be true unless the cougar was a quadruplet brother of 3 other wild cats terrorizing the town or had learned to teleport within the short time span it had been out.

At the end, of course, it was the authorities who found the animal. The solid, no nonsense search party. They found the cat in the dense woods behind the zoo, hidden and hurt, hardly half a mile from it cage. It was appropriately drugged, tied and safely deposited back to its home where the vet would tend to it, all in one simple, swift working.

The town turmoil continued. Children rejoicing potential holiday rumours their own classmates had spread because it was apparently unsafe to walk to school. Unfortunately, it would be just as unsafe to go to the park, their mothers were convinced. TV hosts estimated the approximate cost of how much the zoo would be fined and whether it would be closed down. The whole town was buzzing with excitement. Meanwhile, the cougar went to sleep noting how particularly peaceful the zoo was these days.