7/2017
We went to Ponte Vedra, for an educational conference. It was a long overdue time to enjoy some R&R (rest and recovery, not rocky raccoon).
The week before the trip, we had some uninvited guests that wreaked havoc with our peace and tranquility. Raccoons. Those cute little (8-20 lbs.) furry critters that are one of nature’s most destructive forces. They are very resourceful, clever, persistent and can hold a grudge better than an ex-wife/husband.
In a week, they (I’d estimate there are 6 plus critters just on our homestead) have unearthed plants in the garden, in pots, in flowerbeds. They have destroyed solar lights. They have toppled varmint-proof cat food containers, ate what they want and shit in the rest. They have eaten pet food, soiled pet water and shit on about every surface imaginable around the homestead. They have spread potting soil all over the driveway, left muddy paw prints on the deck and all the vehicles. They have broken terra cotta pots.
Yeah, I was ready for some raccoon-free time off.
On the first day before the conference began, we were lounging by the pool. The wife was in the water and I was on a chaise lounge with my back to the lagoon. Just a few feet from me was a sign that said, “Don’t feed the alligators.” Is a sign with that warning really necessary, or effective? Since we were by the pool and I have a habit of just jumping in the water to cool off without thinking, I didn’t have my hearing aids in. They don’t do well submerged.
Suddenly, I noticed the wife looking startled and a little bemused. I couldn’t hear her but I read lips. She was wide-eyed and attentive to something behind me, “Dave, turn around and look at what is behind you.” As I recalled the sign, I did and it wasn’t an alligator. It was a scrawny raccoon. He avoided direct eye contact but slowly walked to within about 3 feet of me. Well, probably to within 3 feet of the french fries I’d been munching on. I guess I didn’t look very friendly because he seemed to melt back into the brush. About 10 minutes later, a security guy came by to “scare” Rocky off. I think I would prefer he come to taze the damn critter instead of scaring it off.
I got home from the conference about 0030 Friday morning. There, walking across the yard was a momma and 5 babies. No not alligators.
Your grumpy Uncle/Brother Dave.
Weary.