This happened a few weeks ago, but the actual mistake started three months before that.
I grew up in the city and know literally nothing about nature. I recently got a remote job and rented a house out in the suburbs in a wooded area for some peace and quiet.
One morning I heard this squeaking under my deck. I grabbed a flashlight to look and saw a kitten. It was this really chunky and angry looking kitten with huge paws and a stubby tail.
I figured it was a stray Maine Coon mix that lost its tail somehow. I felt bad for the little guy. I used some tuna to lure him into a laundry basket and brought him inside. I named him Garth.
Garth was wild. He destroyed his scratching post in a week flat. Just turned it to dust. His purr sounded like a broken lawnmower. I just thought he was a big, tough street cat, so I bought him expensive canned food and a heated bed to make him comfortable.
He grew insanely fast. After three months, he was the size of a medium dog and pure muscle.
Then the gifts started. He wasn't bringing me mice. One morning I woke up and there was an entire dead raccoon in my kitchen.
I decided it was definitely time for his shots. Getting him into a dog crate was a total nightmare. It took forever and I had to wear thick leather work gloves just to survive it.
I brought him to the vet. There were a few normal dogs in the waiting room. Garth let out this deep vibrating hiss. The dogs basically lost their minds trying to get away from him.
The vet called us in and opened the crate. Garth stepped out and growled.
The vet just froze. He went totally pale. He backed away slowly and stared at me. He straight up asked me where the hell I got a bobcat.
I thought I was going to jail. I had been dangling string toys for a wild animal this whole time. He slept on my bed every night.
The vet ended up calling Fish and Wildlife. I was terrified they would put him down. The officer who showed up just looked at me like I was the dumbest guy on the planet.
Since I raised him inside he was way too used to people to go back to the wild, so they took him to a sanctuary nearby.
I visited him last week. The staff there think the whole situation is hilarious. Garth refuses to eat the raw meat they feed the other wild cats. He throws a massive fit unless they give him his specific fancy canned cat food.
I somehow managed to gentrify a wild animal.
TLDR: Thought a baby bobcat was a big stray cat. Raised it in my house for 3 months. Only found out when my vet almost had a heart attack. Now there's a bobcat at a sanctuary demanding expensive canned food.