Bobcat A Sweet Kitty, But Hard On Furniture

He’ll frolic, he’ll purr, he’ll use a cat box - but don’t expect Charlie to meow. It’s not in his vocabulary.

He’s a 45-pound bobcat.

“Pound for pound, bobcats are supposed to be the meanest cat there is. But when it comes to people, Charlie doesn’t have a mean bone in his body,” claims his owner Jon Stewart, 41, who raised Charlie on goat milk from a bottle.

“I knew a fur farmer who was raising bobcats. I just got the crazy idea to raise one as a pet,” he says.

Three years later, Stewart admits he may have underestimated the size of that commitment. He has to have a special permit to own Charlie, who could live to be as old as 25. The bobcat’s sweet disposition doesn’t always extend to other creatures. After a foray into a neighbor’s chicken coop, he had to be declawed.

But Stewart can show you pictures of Charlie with the neighbor kids draped around his neck and shots of fishermen friends lined up with their catches, Charlie parked tamely in their midst.

“He loves people because I never let anyone tease him. When we go fishing, the first fish that comes into the boat is his,” Stewart says.

On a regular day, Charlie consumes about 2 pounds of raw meat, with a slice of Tillamook cheese for dessert. During hunting season, Stewart advertises for freezer-burned game, grinds it and packs it away for his pet.

A loud thump issues from the other room. Charlie has fallen on his back and is taking playful swipes at Otis, Stewart’s 10-year-old black lab. Otis growls back playfully.

“Otis raised Charlie. Decided he was his mama,” Stewart explains.

Otis streaks past with Charlie in hot pursuit.

“They take turns chasing each other. Sometimes Charlie will jump on Otis’ back and ride him around the house. It’s funnier than hell.”

Another favorite pastime is what Stewart calls catfishing. Attaching a toy mouse to the end of a fishing line, he flicks it around the room. Charlie vaults over the sofa, snakes through the legs of a chair, and leaps 5 feet to nab the toy in midair. Stewart doesn’t even blink.

“Charlie can jump 10 feet if he wants,” he observes. “He catches flies off the ceiling.”

The bobcat’s antics appear to be a little hard on the furniture.

“Oh, he’s definitely a housewrecker,” Stewart agrees cheerfully. “Anything you like, he’ll wreck. He’s even tore me up a few times.” He displays a scarred forearm. “Just playing, of course. But the older he gets, the mellower he gets. He’s so damned funny and lovable you gotta forgive him for the bad things.”

The two spend about 90 percent of their time together. (If Stewart disappoints Charlie by leaving him behind, Charlie tends to eat Stewart’s clothes.) The bobcat is a familiar sight around Harrison, padding after Stewart on his orange halter and leash.

A bricklayer, stonemason, outdoorsman, logger and jack-of-all-trades, Stewart takes the bobcat to work with him - even when the job entails an airplane ride.

“He loves to fly,” Stewart says, “though sometimes the airline people don’t know what to think.”

Stewart and Charlie even recreate together, Stewart keeping a careful eye on the cat in the woods.

“He’ll always come back, but it’s inconvenient when he wanders off,” says Stewart, who once waited three days near Dworshak Dam for Charlie, sleeping under his boat until the bobcat returned.

Their relationship has outlasted several girlfriends.

“Well, I can understand it,” Stewart says philosophically. “The other day I accidentally left out one of those jumbo packs of toilet paper. Looked like a snowstorm in there.” He jerks a thumb toward the bathroom. “Spitwads all over the walls.”

But anyone who wants to date Stewart had better know that when push comes to shove, Charlie ain’t moving.

Stewart shrugs. “It’s tough, but I just tell them, ‘Hey, the cat was here first.”’

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Color photo