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My Grandmother lived in the Northwest. When I was 6 she came across a fairly young mountain lion that had been hit by a car.
She nursed him back to health and for years he would not leave her. When we visited he treated us like one of his own. She would let him out at night and he would be back before daybreak, rarely he'd bring a dead raccoon, dog or rabbit with him. He ended up living under the house and one day never came back.
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