The Dance of Laws & Lions

Eyes in the Dusk

Last December, we went to Utah chasing a mountain lion, the first one we’d ever seen outside a zoo. The hounds led us in, barking mad through the sage until we hit a ridge. There it was, treed in a pine, eyes sharp, looking down like we’d barged into its house. I’d heard their chirps in Michigan and seen tracks, but never this, a lean, wild thing, real as the cold biting my hands. Dr. Julie Young, who’s spent her life studying cougars, says they’re ghosts; you don’t spot them unless they let you. That day, the dogs made it happen. Now laws are circling, talk of banning hounds, and I wonder what shifts if they do.

Too Many or Too Few

Young’s seen what happens when you mess with cougar ecology. Stop hunting them, like Colorado did for five years, and they stack up because they have no predators. Those big cats will terrorize yards, farms, and house cats, making trouble for everyone. If they are such a pain, do we reverse the situation and try to wipe all of the cougars out as some might think?

If that happens, things become unbalanced to the other direction and elk and deer numbers explode to unsustainable levels. Leading to overpopulation, disease, and starvation. Young says it’s all about balance, but balance is not some perfect line. Droughts, winters, people, we make an impact on all of it. Houndsmen keep it from tipping too far, but Utah’s new no-tag rule has her worried— with science sidelined, chaos can come creeping in.

Houndsmen Know

Young has snowmobiled into the Cache Mountains and worked with houndsmen. She says they’re rough guys with gravel voices and old boots, but they are damned sharp. She claims they’re the best naturalists she’s met; one pegged a female’s age and last meal from a track, spot-on when they darted it. They are able to read the land, deer numbers, or bear signs like they’re books. She can’t study cougars without them; they tree ‘em clean, no traps to stress her out.

That’s why they should weigh in when laws get drawn up. Young’s tracked cougars across Utah, watched populations shift with hunting rules. She says the new no-tag deal, letting anyone take a shot, pulls the rug from under folks who manage wildlife for a living. Houndsmen see it too. They opposed it, not because they hate the hunt, but because they get the balance.

They’ve walked away from treed cats just to learn more, not kill. Hunters like them, and guys who’ve spent years in the field, aren’t just trigger-happy. They’ve got skin in the game, a stake in keeping lions around. Laws shouldn’t steamroll that. Young’s data backs it: cougars thrive when hunting’s smart, not wild. Without houndsmen at the table, you’re guessing in the dark, risking too many cats scrapping over turf or too few holding deer in check. They’ve lived it, tracked it, sweated it. Lawmakers need their eyes, not just suits and clipboards.

Laws That Last

That Utah lion lingers with me, not a prize, just wild and real. Young’s tracked them from Chile to Kansas, says they’re back because we quit mass kills, now just trim the troublemakers. Hunting helps too, keeps cougars shy of us, keeps numbers from spiking. She’s seen Colorado pile up cats when it stopped, Utah risks it now with no tags. Houndsmen get it, know the land, should shape these laws. Dogs and men have chased this balance forever. Laws need to hold it steady, not tip it wild.