Good shots Doug and Al! I have spent most of the years of my life in bobcat country and only once have I seen one that had neither dogs barking behind it nor a fake rabbit squealing in front of it. When I was in middle school I had an amazing experience, a full-on staring contest with one kitty at about 12 feet. Following an older bobcat track through a thick alder swamp, I was stopped at a major game crossroads trying to pick out the next round track when one came trotting down one of the game trail towards me. I remained frozen after I saw it approaching and it did not notice me until it was very close. It stopped abruptly, front right paw frozen in midair, halfway through a step. It met my gaze almost instantly and kept it, unflinching. After at least one full minute I decided to break our stand-off by yelling for my father who was only a hundred yards away with another man, two dogs and the rifle. Thinking back on it today, I was foolish to shout and should have reveled in the moment as long as I could. My intention had been to hurry the chase but more help would have came from my delaying the cat further as the rest of my hunting party was following this cat's tracks already and would have soon discovered where it had bedded as well as fresher tracks heading my way. After bee-lining to the basement of a nearby abandoned homestead well known to hound hunters as home to hibernating porcupines and therefor a safe haven, that cat lived to see another day.