How to Trap a Mountain Lion

I first heard his unearthly screams piercing the night like a wraith, and when I saw his tracks the next morning...right at my back porch... my worst fears were confirmed: a mountain lion had appeared outside my home. Perhaps I'd get lucky and the big cat would simply move on. But that night I again heard a terrible commotion on the back porch. Paralyzed with fear, I drew the covers over my head and waited for the carnage to stop. Eventually, all was quiet, but sleep was a long time coming that night. What terrible scene would the dawn bring?

Morning brought the grisly answer strewn across the porch like some macabre set-piece: my wife's suet feeders murdered, dismembered, their partially eaten remains torn and scattered. They never stood a chance against the beast. Tears welling in my eyes, I cried "this is too much. This will not stand." Suddenly, I knew what I had to do: I would trap the great beast, this supreme predator, this monster of nightmare that even today haunts the darkest recesses of Man's ancestral memory.

On the third night of my ordeal I set out the trap, poured myself a cup of coffee, and waited, waited....and then he came like a wisp of smoke there and yet not there, a spectral vision drawn to the delectable scent of the Fancy Feast Grilled Ocean Whitefish and Tuna Feast in Gravy (which, I'm told, is ambrosia to mountain lions).

My hands trembled, my eyes widened, and when the trap door slammed on his ample arse I knew my nightmare was over, my Grendel had finally been slain (Figuratively speaking of course. The lawyers have forced me to disclose that no actual mountain lion was harmed in the telling of this story...).

As I sat there marveling at the great cat's sheer untamed wildness, I recalled the words of philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, who once famously opined that "battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss the abyss gazes also into you."

At the time I thought he was just a crazy old demented German dude, but when I saw this story, suddenly I knew exactly what he meant. I had joined a select fraternity. I had gazed into the abyss, battled the monster, and lived to tell about.

Now the question is, what do I do with this mountain lion?