The Mountain Lion (Felis concolor).

Cougar, Panther, Painter, Catamount, Brown tiger, Red tiger American lion,
Deer killer, Mountain devil, Mountain screamer, this animal is known by
these and possibly a dozen more names. Lean with a short tawny coat,
clear yellow eyes and long tail it moves equally at home through the forest
or desert. Their size varies from 26" to 30" at the shoulder and weighs
from 150 to 225 lbs . It is a secretive cat ranging from Canada to Patagonia.
While deer is the animal's favorite food it may kill sheep, cattle or horses.
They can bear from one to five spotted cubs in late winter or early spring,
the cubs could stay with the mother for up to two years.

Even though it looks like just a big loving cat, one you would like to pet and
scratch behind its ear, you would be well advised, it is a killer. In the past
few years it has grown in numbers and moved into the neighborhoods of
many towns. In California alone, one killed a woman jogger and another killed
a child, they are dangerous! If you ever happen to run across a Mountain Lion
in the wild, DO NOT RUN FROM THEM, it excites their hunting instinct.
Instead, make yourself as large as you can by raising your arms and standing
your ground. At the same time be pleased in the fact you are witness to one
of the most beautiful animals this country has to offer.

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Mountain Lion ( Felis concolor )

In the Arizona Desert Museum there is a poem inscribed in stone
for one of their cherished mountain lions that passed away.

GEORGE L. MOUNTAINLION
BORNE FEBRUARY 1952
DIED MARCH 8, 1955

I freely give all sights and sounds of nature I have known
to those who have the grace to enjoy not man-made
materialism but God-made beauty.

The magnificent Arizona sunsets I have watched from my
enclosure, I bequeath to all who see not only with their
eyes but with their hearts.

To humans who are tired, worried or discouraged, I
bequeath the silence, majesty and peace of our great
American desert.

To those who walk the trails, I bequeath the early
morning voices of the birds and the glory of the
flowering desert in the springtime.

To the children, who have enjoyed seeing me, hearing me
purr, and watching me turn my somersaults, I offer the
precious gift of laughter and joy, the world so needs
these things.

And lastly, I bequeath my own happy spirit, and affection
for others. To all who may remember me and my museum
where for three years I did my best to show people that
I truly liked them.

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