Last night, we opened the front door while waiting for UPS to show up with a very important package and were privileged to see a pretty good-sized raccoon traversing our porch. It did not slow down, look in our direction, or hesitate. But this has raised some questions in Stella’s mind.
Stella: Why was that cat with the striped tail on our porch?
Me: That was a raccoon.
Stella: Okay, why was that raccoon cat on our porch and wearing a black mask? Is it a criminal? It looked like a bank robber in one of those old Picture Box shows.
Me: No, it was not a cat and it was not a criminal. It was a raccoon and all raccoons have masks and striped tails.
Stella: It moved like a cat, a sneaky, sneaky cat.
Me: It was likely looking for food. It probably stops by just about every night, but we are not usually looking out the front door at that time of night so we never see it.
Stella: That’s creepy. Let’s put a sign out telling her to stay away.
Me: That won’t work. Raccoons don’t read signs. It probably lives down by the creek and we are part of its hunting grounds.
Stella: Hunting? Hunting our food?
Me: No, your food is all inside.
Stella: What if it comes inside hunting our food? NO!!!
Me: It can’t get inside the house.
Stella: We need to set a guard. Snoopey is good at that sort of thing. I appoint her.
Me: You appoint?
Stella: I am the Queen.
Me: I am the human.
Stella: You can’t mean in. You want raccoons to take over our house.
Me: No, raccoons will not take over the house. I am still the human, remember. This is not a raccoon house.
Stella: Exactly! It is a bulldog house!
Me: Oh, Stella, I have put a lot of words in your mouth during the time I have known you. I don’t recall ever telling you that this is a bulldog house.
Stella: Words in my mouth? You did? I don’t remember. What did they taste like? Did they taste good. May I have some more, please?
Me: Yes, as many as you like, good old bulldog.
Stella: So long as none of them tastes like raccoon.
Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.
Bulldoggy 