I Speak Raccoon. And I Don't Like What I'm Hearing.

My 14-yr-old son called us last night, panicked, and told us not to come home. There were six raccoons on the porch and he feared for our safety. You may think they're just raccoons. But we have history.

A few years back, we were awakened by what sounded like someone screeching and banging together pots and pans in our drive-way. I fully anticipated looking out the window and seeing some jackass teenagers that had too much to drink. Only, when we looked out the bedroom window, it was 3 raccoons, smacking our cat-food lids together. Looking right at us. Saying, "What? You can't do a thing. And we already ate the cat food." Bastards. 

In the next few days they managed to shred the bottom of the garage door, rip up the inside of the garage, and fight the end of the rake my husband used to get them out of the garage. Every night they chanted "Hell No! We won't go!"

So, recognizing they were attempting a hostile take-over, my husband contacted some friends who trap them. And don't get all sentimental on me. The bastards got destructive and it was full-on war. 

The first night we trapped one. And we awoke to the sound of metal being dragged. Because metal was being dragged. The other two sons of raccoon bitches were dragging their caged mother down the drive-way for an escape. I don't know how they managed to get her out of that cage. All I know is that there was blood everywhere and she was gone. And we were pissed.

And then it happened. The next night my husband got smart and bungee corded the metal containers of cat food shut. Only they got smarter and took the bungee cords off. Like a sleep deprived man, broken for the last time, he jumped out of the bed in his boxer shorts and stomped downstairs. I jumped to my knees and watched out the window waiting for him to bust out the door. But he didn't. He came back up pumping his gun. HARD. His b-b gun. He looked like Rambo. He removed the screen very stealth-like. He aimed the gun...and knelt down in his boxer shorts, acting very ninja warrior. (only I'm not sure they use guns.) And he shot.

And then his facial expression changed from ninja-warrior to my great aunt Nancy's. He said, "Oh no. Heather. Oh No. Come here!!!"

So I jumped from my very quiet position on my knees and ran over to him. He had shot the damn thing right between the eyes. It was convulsing and bleeding out and it was the most disturbing site I have ever seen. And I, for the love of God, have no idea why he found it necessary to scar me like he had scarred himself.

There is no real point to the story. Maybe it's, even animals lovers have a breaking point. And sleep is super important to us both. I just hope these new raccoons know who they're messing with.

This Morning's Rise and Fall

I love my husband. I do.


Last night we went to bed around 11:30p.m. At 4:45 a.m. this is what happened.


I was asleep on my side, facing outward. The same is true every night.
He slept flat on his back.


He must've jerked (which he often does) and it woke me. I'm glad it did. I wouldn't have wanted to miss this.


All of the sudden he jerked toward his side of the bed. Hard. It all happened so fast it was hard to process. I barely turned my head to see what the hell was going on...all I saw were arms grasping at air. (Our bed stands 4ft high) I think he may have been trying to grab the covers, or maybe a hope and a prayer. He was almost successful. But somehow I was coherent enough to know to hold tight.


It was the loudest thud EVER.


I did good. I quietly and slowly said, "Honey...what are you doing?"


He was pissed. Actually, I think he was several things...pissed, embarrassed, frustrated, tired, but above all confused. He said "I fell off the bed. Damn. It." "Son of a Bitch."


I don't know exactly what happened next, but according to him (much later in the day) his foot was stuck under something. He attempted to stand up. Not once, not twice, but 3 times. It sounded like someone was wrestling him, or hiding under the bed holding onto his foot. At one point, when he was trying to stand, he fell to a knee. And the combination of words that came out of his mouth were so randomly vulgar I thought I would die.


He said, "Was that funny to you?" Ummmmm. You bet.