A local realtor chimed in on cougars after a recent report of a Colrain sighting. The man made his first Ashfield home in an area I’m quite familiar with after decades of hunting, hiking and four-wheeling through a forest wonderland where kindred spirits beckon. Apparently, he felt as though he’d bitten his tongue long enough.

He began his short e-mail note by identifying his town of residence and admitting “I have been reading your (cougar) columns these past few months in earnest.” He closed by stating, “Just thought I’d add fuel to the fire!” The information sandwiched between those bookends is what’s important.

The first mention our latest source heard of cougars was shortly after he settled in Ashfield during the late 1970s, when United States Fish & Wildlife Service wildlife specialist Virginia Fifield was stationed here to investigate cougar sightings. The new Franklin County resident asked a neighboring landowner across the street for permission to cross-country ski through his pasture. Displaying the country spirit that once prevailed throughout our western hilltowns, the neighbor said he had no problem sharing his land for such activity but cautioned him about the cougar tracks he’d found there.

Hmmmmmm? That got the West County transplant thinking, and probably kept him alert, particularly when swallowed by the mixed woods he often exercised in. Then, during the mid-80s, there it was: moving, breathing evidence; a big cat in the Hawley State Forest. No, he hadn’t sampled any tiny florescent mushrooms gathered from the wet, shaded forest floor. Quite the contrary, he was mountain biking with friends before they “saw this long, slinky animal with a long tail cross the road. Not a coyote.”

Like most people confronted with such a sighting, they didn’t make a big deal of it; probably because they didn’t want to be accused of lying or, at the very least, experiencing a Sixties flashback right out of the Timothy Leary playbook. Who in their right mind would willingly cast such aspersions on themselves?

Must be that newspaper reports caught him at a perfect time to pry free a disclosure, although you’ll notice he hasn’t been identified. No, he didn’t say he wanted to remain anonymous, but he didn’t give the green light to use his name, either; and when discussing a potentially controversial subject like cougar sightings, I always err on the side of caution.

Undoubtedly what nudged the note out of this source was “a few recent mountain lion sightings crossing Route 112 (in Ashfield) and a recent discussion he had with a hilltown octogenarian from Goshen, the site of the only confirmed cougar track found by Fifield during her stay. The soon-to-be 90-year-old man attended the source’s daylily open garden and, out of the blue, started discussing mountain lion sightings in his neighborhood.

“He lives in Goshen, just south of the DAR (State Forest, where the Fifield-confirmed track was found),” reported the realtor. “He claims to have plaster casts of prints, lots of neighbor sightings and has talked to several wildlife folks.”

Huh? Is the man crazy? Eighty-something and talking to wildlife officials about mountain lion sightings? Doesn’t he know state officials are mandated reporters? What’s he after, an evaluation? Psychoanalysis? Shock treatment? A rehabilitation center, perhaps? Doesn’t he know it’s irresponsible to report cougar sightings, that Eastern cougars are extinct?

Apparently, at his peril, he ain’t buying it. After nearly a century on God’s earth, he’s learned to trust his eyes.