Animal Escapades (Part 1)

Last night Matt and I were sitting out at my family’s pool, dipping our feet in the water and talking. We were seated beneath the one light bulb hanging from the side of the cabana, and the underwater lights were on, providing a shifting, watery glow. I heard a chuck-will’s-widow calling in the distance. I turned my head to hear it better and gasped in surprise as I was greeted by four masked, shining eyes. Two medium-sized raccoons were headed toward the water from behind the cabana. My startled reaction startled them, and their ringed tails disappeared again into the darkness.



Mom has been on a get-rid-of-raccoons campaign due to a recent slew of destructive events, so Matt and I turned off the lights and waited in the dark for them to return. My family has recently gained a pair of archery bows (one compound, one recurve), and Matt recently purchased sharper tipped arrows for just such pest removal (or at least scaring away) purposes.
As we sat in the dark we could hear the coons chirruping in the trees, but nothing reappeared around the corners. While part of me acknowledged the cuteness of the creatures, another part knows just how my mom feels. In the recent months they have inhabited my dad’s workshop (and you thought rats were bad!), eaten fish meant for the pond, stolen household items accidentally left outside, and continually muddied the pool and deck with their little food-washing feet. And if mom’s chickens keep laying in bushes instead of their nesting boxes, they will probably start stealing eggs as well.

I think what surprised me the most is that they were headed for the water even though the lights were on and we were talking. Like the deer, the raccoons seem to becoming more and more accustomed to close human proximity. The deer just don’t care anymore, strolling through yards and across roads at all hours of the day. If you step outside they’ll lazily look up at you, but not bother to move unless you shout or run toward them. They eat the fruit from the trees and chew young saplings to the ground. The other day I saw one sticking its tongue through the garden fence in an attempt to reach a corn stalk. Deer can still be beautiful to watch, but it’s hard to enjoy their majestic nature when they are destroying your summer harvest.

Wow. It's amazing how many results you get by image googling "deer sticking tongue out."

I suppose it’s just a constant territorial battle: as the area becomes more and more developed, the animals adapt and grow bolder in order to survive.
In other animal news, I saw a very large (and very dead) porcupine on the side of the road yesterday morning. I had no idea that porcupines were native Texans!


It looked exactly like this. Only...dead.

My dad saw a guy collecting the quills later that day, armed with heavy gloves and a sack. What are good uses for porcupine quills? Does that guy scour the roadsides for prickly roadkill, or what this a first-time collection?

That situation always makes me a little sad: “Whoa! A porcupine! I’ve never seen one in the wild before! Oh...it’s dead.” Live animals are just…well…most things are better when they’re alive. Unless you’re wearing or eating it. Then I am a firm believer in whatever you are wearing or eating no longer looking like a live thing at all.

So anyway…we’ll see how Raccoon Adventure Part 2 goes. Pretty sure the hubster is going to camp out tonight to try and scare them off more permanently by shooting sharp things in their general direction. Your cuteness can’t always make up for your troublemaking,  you fuzzy little creatures.