The Raccoon Has Questionable Morals

We have an unwelcome guest at our house. I thought he might have been a transient but I fear he may be considering moving in. Hold tight to your chair and relax as you let your preconceived notions of furry creatures fall to the ground because I’m about to rock your world.

Yesterday morning Doc and I had rounded the corner and turned onto our street after a brisk (read: freezing) and invigorating (my face was frozen and numb) walk when we both stopped. He must have smelled something and I definitely saw something and we both had to stop and assess the danger quotient of the situation. After squinting my eyes into the darkness I caught sight of the enigma: it was a raccoon. A raccoon that had run out of my garage upon our approach and was currently perambulating across my front lawn and throwing glances of reproach back over his chubby shoulder with each step.

Doc, after we walked up the driveway and were about 15 feet from the intruder, was wiggling in his leash and throwing up his best “Oh! Mom! Look! It’s a, oh, I don’t know, it’s a friend, though! Can I just, let me just, oh please can’t I just go and, oh!” look. I, with my intimate knowledge of the many puppy-eating species of varmints in the world, did not let him join the masked bandit and we went inside, closed the garage, and promptly told Wes, who was dead asleep.

The conversation went like this: “Good morning honey!” “Mruh…” “Hey, did you know we have a raccoon-friend? I just saw him hanging out by our garage. Doc thought he wanted to play but I didn’t let him. Cool, huh?” “Umhmm…”.

After I told Wes I promptly forgot about the interloper. This morning, however, I was surprised to see the same raccoon of the previous morning and he looked even more irate this time. He’s chunky and huge and he waddles. Doc feels like he’s best friends with the raccoon, on account of them having met twice now, and so he was really anxious to be let off his leash to play. I, of course, whisked Doc into the garage again and now I’m starting to wonder if maybe this raccoon has some evil intentions for my puppy (because obviously Doc’s the target. Or our trash. Seeing as how our trash is predominantly dog poop I figure he’s welcome to it if that’s the case). It’s a good thing that Wes built Doc’s Fortress of Solitude in the backyard or I’d really have to worry about his plump little puppy haunches.

I’m not sure how this tale is going to end, to be truthful. Either the raccoon will leave us alone or he’ll continue to explore more of our garage (ostensibly to borrow some tools but we all know raccoons are terrible at returning tools so no way was that excuse ever going to work). I have to say, though, that the raccoon is going to leave us alone regardless. If he finds it impossible to leave us alone on his own, though, he’ll have help from the heel of my running shoe right against his little bottom. I may squeal at the sight of spiders but I am one tough lady when it comes to my puppy and no smarmy little marsupial is going to be munching on my puppy if I have a say. No sir. He can munch on the poop if he wants, though, I’ve got no problem with that.

In other news, I keep looking at the calendar, incredulous. Can it really be the 13th? Can we really be leaving on the 15th? When we planned this trip it seemed so far away and now, BAM! Here it is! I’m increasingly antsy at work and am continuing my unbroken streak of having accomplished nothing work-wise for almost two weeks. Go me! I am a well-spring of useless Internet-begotten information and trivia, though, so that’s kind of productive. I’m considering bringing one of those eye masks to work tomorrow that has the eyes painted on the outside so that I can take a few naps while being exactly as productive as I am now.Do you think anyone would notice?

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