When I was living in Coronado, CA during my time in the Navy, one of the residents had a pet mountain lion named Brutus. Brutus was de-fanged and de-clawed, and ate 10 pounds of raw meat a day. (Boy, I'm glad I never had to stoke that furnace! This was in 1970.)
Brutus was a very spoiled and pampered pussy cat. Every day his owner (and sometimes his wife) would take Brutus for a walk down the middle of the boulevard on the main drag (Orange Avenue). Brutus nearly caused more than a few rear-end collisions from gawking motorists.
Then some of the PETA people decided that Brutus needed to be taken away from the only home he'd ever known and put in the San Diego Zoo -- for his own good -- of course.
The owners of Brutus took this to court and the PETA folks lost (after a time and a lot of money). Brutus stayed in his happy home until he passed away from old age, while the frustrated PETA people were left to pound sand.
Several things that I always wondered:
(1) Did Brutus' owner buy a half or a full cow for his freezer, and
(2) how many cows did Brutus consume in a year?
(3) Other folks who'd seen Brutus out for his walks wondered what kind of "watch cat" he was for the house?
I imagined the following "Brutus vs. Burglar" confrontation.
Scene: Darkened house, owners asleep, burglar breaks in and is looking for loot.
Brutus (disturbed) purrs the way only a mountain lion can.
Burglar hits Brutus with the flashlight beam and sees the sound comes from a reclining mountain lion.
Brutus purrs more loudly, as if to say: "Hello, breakfast."
Burglar nearly kills himself trying to exit through the nearest wall or window.
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