Arriving home late from work but probably a little early. Let’s just say for the sake of the story, it was 1:30a. When we get home from work, I let Jazz out of the car, she always makes a beeline for the house but I remind her that she’s been in the car for 6 hours so… using the facilities in order. She comes back. Does as she’s told and then takes off like a bullet. Full speed HOME.
Always arriving on our patio with me dragging behind having run around an emergency room for 12 hours.
This night, she’s onto something, barking away. SHHHHH. For pete’s sake. People are sleeping. She’s on full alert. This is never a comfortable space for me at this hour. My dog is alerting me to danger in the middle of the night. At home.
I scan the patio searching for the intruder and see up above on our fence, a raccoon. This is not the first time I have seen a raccoon pass through across the top of the fence. But this raccoon has stopped – not a good sign.
I shove Jazz into the apartment. The last thing I need is Jazz getting into an altercation with a raccoon. Visions of me attempting to beat the raccoon with a shovel. Carrying my bleeding dog to the back of my car, driving like a mad woman to the 24 hour emergency vet with a bad reputation, working extra shifts to pay for it. Nope, bad vision. GET in the house. Jazz hops and yips behind the door.
The raccoon drops out of sight. I step back out onto the patio to meet the raccoon who has popped back onto the fence.
My only goal is to move her along. She’s not budging, sitting and growling at me. NOT a good sign. She should WANT to move along but seems interested in standing her ground.
I could go to bed but my nightly routine is to sit on the patio for a half an hour or so and unwind before going to bed. It is impossible to drop into bed within a half an hour of honest to God critical thinking.
Still, I should have gone to bed.
Obviously I did not.
I grab my hose, I need to water the garden anyway. NO, I had no intention of spraying the raccoon. I love animals, I just wanted to “encourage” her. So I sprayed the fence and she moved along.
Next thing I know, she’s on the PATIO. WHAT? Not on the patio floor but on the ledge of the patio – the patio is set within a raised large raised garden – she’s in the garden portion.
This time I aim directly for her-ish because she means business and she’s gone. Then I am sad. Because I hear squeaks and a flurry of activity and five baby raccoons scurry as fast as possible across the fence in the direction of their mother. (Baby raccoons the size of Kobe the cat)
Oof. I’ve terrorized a mother. So sad. What kind of monster am I? All because I wanted to sit on my patio for 30 minutes? Suddenly I feel selfish.
They continue to rummage through the bushes just outside “my” property. My property – I hate the definition of property when it comes to animals. It isn’t MINE. It is ours. And hackers… well, I have a lot of hacker stories. I kinda lived with them for a bit. Small detail of my childhood.
They returned once again, another night, this time I’ve gone to bed, awoken by Jazz all in a tizzy. I glance outside and they have moved beyond a point where I can visualize them but I see the neighbor cat headed home in quick fashion.
So that’s the story of a family of hackers. Hackers… Alex had a stuffed raccoon growing up which he called “hacker.” Hacker got into all sorts of trouble as Alex attempted on several occasions to prepare hacker food – to include an entire back of dog food doused in chocolate sauce (innocent bystander, apparently the family cat was also doused in chocolate sauce). My Dad woke up that particular morning to a chocolate sauce covered cat rousing him…
Little known fact, raccoons enjoy dog food topped in Hershey’s chocolate syrup.
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