02 July 2006

Mangy Cats, Pigeons, and Raccoons - Oh My!

My sister gets cute fluffy wuffy wabbits living in her lush back yard. My mom gets well-behaved squirrels that frolic in her flower beds. My grandmother, a country yard full of birds and an arthritic handsome cat that is too tired to chase them (he prefers food of the canned variety, in his graceful elderly age). Ah, sounds lovely and complete when you look up to a sky full of stars at the end of the day.

What do I get? You would think not much as I live my life in the fast paced city. Maybe a little smog? Maybe the occasional late night racket?

What I did get the other day was a lovely visit from a raccoon. By the way, raccoons are only truly funny when they are going through your neighbour's garbage cans. As we were sitting back and enjoying a Japanese monster flick, something inside kept telling me to look back at the door to our patio. It was early and we usually leave the door open for a breeze. A few moments later and out of the corner of my eye, I see something move inside. I didn't have my glasses on so I thought it was just the stray cats that have been recently lurking around our building. As well, a summer or so ago I saw a family of raccoons and mistook them for a family of persian cats - that's how bad my eyes can be (at least I amuse myself with my bad vision). I turn around, only to see a large raccoon with beady raccoon eyes stepping foot into my kitchen.

"A fucking raccoon!" I yelped.

We both jumped up and it turned out the door. I guess he was under the impression that he truly wasn't welcome in our humble abode. By the time we made it out on the patio, he skidaddled across the neighbour's fence into the backlane. What a brave little raccoon, saying hello in an un-nocturnal kind of way. I'm just glad we noticed it before it was too late. The last thing I need is to be trapped in a small apartment with a raccoon that may or may not be full of piss and vinegar and rabies. Although, that would have made for a very interesting blog.

Dear Blog,
Today, I was attacked by a rabid raccoon. It became frightened by my screams of bloody murder and proceeded to take a dump on my kitchen floor, before raiding the garbage can. I no longer has any feeling in my lower limbs and digits.
The end.

That's what we get. Raccoons in our kitchen and pissy, mangy cats. At least, our new friends - the pigeons - have been rather respectful. They have yet to go mad with hunger and attack my throat. On that thought, perhaps I should train them to do that so that they can attack Bono and/or Tom Cruise next time they are in town. Caw-Caw!


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