Hunter Becomes the Hunted

Recently one of my good friends in Dallas invited me up. He had recently heard good things about one of the cougar dens listed on the urban cougar website, Hotel Zaza. Being that it was only a short walk from where we were staying, we decided to grab our gear and go on a cougar safari. Before going, I didn’t know what to expect. I honestly thought that the hotel bar might have a couple of decent trophy cougars. I was wrong. We walked in and there were trophy book quality cougars everywhere. At that point I felt like I did not bring enough ammo. I counted at least 25 cougars that were better than an 8 on a 0-10 scale. Then there were at least another 25 cougars that were better than a 7. There were plenty of cougars that would make Boone and Crockett.

When on safari, you need to enjoy yourself, but also make efficient use of your time. We hit the bar and ordered drinks. From there, we made our game plan and found a good tactical location and vantage point for our hunt. I was sizing up and scoring several different cougars, trying to decide which one would be a good harvest. I also wanted one that I had the skill and capacity to pack out of the den without getting bitten or injured. We spotted 2 next to the pool. On our advance towards them, I was blindsided by 3 other mature cougars. They were a little more mature than I would normally choose. But I was getting the feeling that if I didn’t harvest one of them, their actions would probably compromise my hunt for another cougar that night. So I closed my tab, and agreed to leave with 2 of them. I’m in my 20’s, and both of these ladies were 15-20 years older than me. But they made it very clear that they were both wealthy, and did what they pleased.

Upon arrival at this cougar’s high rise loft, I began to realize, that I was kidding myself. I wasn’t the hunter here, they were. They had brought me back to their lair, and were going to eat me alive. We laughed and talked over a glass of cognac. When one of them would leave the room, the other would begin kissing me or caressing my thigh. I viewed this as a bold move that only an experienced set of cougars make. If I had done my homework, I would have known that, older mature cougars often pair up for their hunt and feeding rituals. I eventually was lured into the bedroom by the alpha cougar of the house. When she was done with me, she just rolled over and went to sleep. I was alive, and thought I was just about done with my safari. I got up to grab a glass of water in the kitchen. At that point, the other cougar that was lying on the sofa, informed me that she couldn’t sleep, and asked me to come sit and talk. Well, I got over there, and she didn’t want to talk, and she definitely didn’t want to sit. I then received my second mauling by a cougar for the night.

The next morning, they gave me a cup of coffee and sent me on my way. No names, no numbers, no questions. At that point, it was very clear of what had happened on my safari. As I was tracking them, they backtracked, and circled behind me. Once I was within their effective attack range, they proceeded to disarm, and then maul me. This was a very good learning experience. I now know to never underestimate the ability or intentions of anything you might be hunting. It only takes a second to become the hunted when on safari for dangerous game.



Photo Source: Shutterstock