Raccoons are Fattening
My Wild Kingdom
16 July 2012
Being the Early Bird who gets up before dawn, I’m in charge of topping-off and putting the bird feeders back outside. I fill bird baths/water dishes and scatter corn for turkeys, deer, and chipmunks with grandiose ideas on how far those little cheeks can stretch. To prevent the squirrels from spending the entire day hanging off the bird feeders, I toss sunflower seeds on the ground. With the squirrels grazing under the feeders, the birds don’t have to dive-bomb the furry rodents to get a shot at the feeders. Win Win.
After the food is out, I go for a walk. Power kind, which means I turn on the iPod app to measure how many steps and how long. Which also means when I get home, I shake the iPod in disgust because from the way I’m huffing and puffing, there’s No Way I haven’t been gone at least a day and covered sixty miles. Stupid machine.
Yesterday when I left for my walk, down in the front woods two does were already eating up the scattered corn. As I finished my walk, my cellphone rang. (Yes. Mea Culpa. I do TWW- Talk While Walking. But only if I get a call or there’s an emergency. Since I truly cannot ‘walk and chew gum,’ I do not eat and walk at the same time. Which makes this one of the rare occasions when being out of Cheezits is not an emergency.)
TPC called to warn me that there was a mother raccoon and three kits under the bird feeder. Years ago we both volunteered at Alabama Wildlife Rescue, so we know that raccoons are NOT cute. They bite, tear up porch screening when you lock them out, nest in the porch rafters until you finish the #$%$%^ ceiling, drag stuff around in the garage at night because Someone left the cat door open. (Even though the only cat is asleep in the middle of the bed.)
So I strolled around the corner of the drive, quietly and as far away from the tree and feeder as possible. Mom raccoon took off, leaving the trio of kits to scamper up the tree.
TPC and I promptly nominated her for Mother of the Year. Of course when we went inside she came back and the kits came down out of the tree. Much more obedient than human progeny. Not one word from the big-eyed kits of “Why should I go up the tree? Can I come down now? Now? Now?”
But the damage was done. TPC and I looked at each other. All these critters eating breakfast. We showered and headed for Waffle House. Where neither of us ordered a diet plate.
Kath: who at least ordered tomato slices instead of hash browns with her cheese omelet.
