Back in June I wrote a piece about Lynx rufus, the magnificent Sonoran lynx affectionately known in these parts as the bobcat. And that’s a little confusing because there are eleven different subspecies of wild cats in North America that go by the title of bobcat, including the rather wonderfully named Lynx fasciatus (British Columbia) and Lynx superiorensis (Northwest and Central US).

As a confirmed cat person I have been, for several years, delighted and thrilled by occasional visits to my small desert kingdom by a solitary, wary and very beautiful adult Lynx rufus. He periodically made a tasty lunch out of one of my mourning doves, but I couldn’t really be mad at him as that is the way of life in the wilds.

Recently, while preparing a tasty vegetarian breakfast I looked out my kitchen window to see a bobcat cub frolicking in my fountain. About the size of a house cat, he already had the distinctive glaring eyes and radiant stripes of the desert lynx. I tried to snap a few photos, but he scampered off into the sea of cactus and agave.

The very next morning the cub returned with two siblings and, a little later, his cautious and protective mom. This time, I had no trouble capturing them on camera. The cats just moved right in and made themselves at home: splashing in the fountain, dozing under a mesquite, and climbing like goofy monkeys on a large prickly pear tree that used to stand on the east side of my house. I say “used to” because the diminutive hunting cats had so much fun on the tree they broke off its largest limb. It crashed to the ground and quickly became fodder for javelinas and desert hares.

Some mornings, the four cats walked brazenly onto my patio, scaring the daylights out of my indoor house cat, whose tail fluffed up like a busby—the black, bushy hats worn by the Queen’s Coldstream Guards at Buckingham Palace in my old hometown of London. One of the inquisitive cubs came right up to the sliding door, curious enough about what was going on inside the Logical Lizard’s abode to bump his feline nose on the glass.

Bobcats cover a lot of ground when they’re in the mood, and the family has sadly moved on. I hope mom brings me a new litter next year. They were the most illustrious visitors I’ve had in some time.

Photographs © by Geoffrey Notkin. All rights reserved. No reproduction without written permission.

After splitting several decades between London and New York, the move to a desert home was about as big a change as a city boy could make. Although I spent much of my life in urban apartments I have always been an outdoors person and would take any excuse to go adventuring in the wilds.

One evening, a few months after relocating to the Sonoran Desert, and while I was still happily but judiciously adjusting to frequent meetings with snakes, lizards, hawks, tarantulas, coyotes, and javelina, I noticed a cat sitting under my neighbor’s palo verde tree. It was a spring evening, shortly before sunset and the cat thoughtfully sniffed the air, clearly enjoying the breeze and abundant dusk aromas.

As I wheeled my garbage can down the long driveway I looked back at my neighbor’s visitor and thought to myself: “That is a really big cat.” He stood up, stretched, and walked languorously across the yard, at which time I realized he was not an overgrown house cat but, in fact, a lynx. Lynx rufus, known as the Sonoran or Mexican lynx, and locally as a bobcat, is a lithe and elegant fellow, shaped a little like a cheetah with long, striped legs, but decorated with pointed ears and tufts under his cheeks. Fully grown, Lynx rufus might weigh 35 pounds, and grow to about the size of a collie or smallish German shepherd.

Distinguished visitor: a dazzling Lynx rufus perched atop my garden fence. He kindly waited just long enough for me to take two hasty photographs. One of my more existential friends claims that, due to his frequent visits, the lynx has obviously chosen to be my spirit guide. Does that make me a cat person?

He and his pals have been back to visit my wild desert garden many times since then. Occasionally he’ll catch one of my doves for dinner, which is a little upsetting, but it is the natural way. If you’re lucky enough to meet a bobcat, give him a little space. Lynx rufus is an endangered species and receiving a visit from one is a special treat indeed.