Panther Sighting

    I had the pleasure of making a panther report to the New England Mountain Lion Sighting Board - I think that's how it went. I was reporting a sighting told to me by an office manager of a health related business. She said, in essence, " I have a new neighbor who moved from Massachusetts. She was taking her dog and her alpacas -yes- out for a walk and saw a panther." The panther must have been amazed to see alpacas.
    This sighting board is very nice. It has a very pleasant tone about, apparently undiscovered by the sewer-fingers. I was pleased to see several black panther sightings in it. I attended an Aududbon lecture by the chief game warden in charge of supervising legal fur-bearing trapping in Vermont. When he discussed panthers, called catamounts here, he always framed them in the context of "passing through." But remember, the state pays him, not the truth. He also said that there are sometimes so many panther sightings that there would have to be panthers at every corner. Maybe there are, but only long enough for a person or two to see them. They are hardly statues.
    I also had the great pleasure of seeing my first fisher. Vermonters are very excited about "fisher-cats." Its a phemomenon somewhat like the Floridians and their alligators. I had a medical appointment in Bennington which is only seven miles from the New York state line. After the appointment I went north on Route 7 to asee some of the area where almost ten people are suspected of being carried away by Bigfoot including a college coed, a 75 year old hunting guide, and a party of three hunters. There was a constant range of mountains on both sides of Route 7, and it was easy to visualize Bigfoot coming out of them and down into the valley where I was driving. After it was dark, I drove back to Brattleboro by way of Route 9. As I was going around Sears Mountain - I think-
the cat-like Fisher crossed in front of me, left to right, where the cliff was. When he got under the guardrail for the cliff, he felt secure, and stopped to stare at me go past him. He was chocolate brown with black markings on his head. According to the books, his number one prey is the lowly, slow porcupine. The porky attempt to defend himself  by keeping his quill-filled back pointing at the determined fisher. The fisher then runs around to the front of the porky to try to bite him in the face. Both animals keep turning and turning, but after a half hour of this, the slower porcupine has accumulated so many bites to his face that he is too incapacitated to respond. Then the fisher flips poor porky over onto his back, and eats him alive through his stomach.
   Peter Nickerson, Philosopy Major, Class of '68, William and Mary, peternickerson12@yahoo.com