The raccoon sprawled on our balcony rail, a heavy breathing hump of brindle fur and two masked peepers glowing at me through the back window. I knew that the dog downstairs had scared it into the climb and that now it was perched, waiting and watching in case the dog learned to climb straight up the corner post supporting the balcony. Lou Lou dithered and promised death and dire consequences to the “vermin” that simply ignored her and the hard kharma flowing out the door. It waddled around the balcony looking for the possibility of an escape that included no dogs. Raccoons are nocturnal according to my long dead father and various supplementary information I’ve gathered since then. There was even a scary hint that raccoons seen in the day-time might be rabid and that they were therefore demented and out searching for humans they could turn into vampires or werewolves with a single hideous bite. I know from experience they are far from cuddly little fuckers and when they are cornered…in your tent, for example…they can get seriously pissed off. So my solution for this mid-afternoon visitor was to log some couch time and wait until the creature was convinced that the dog was no longer lurking…and he (or she…how can you tell?) buggered off. Sitting on the sofa looking at the dancing pixels on the T.V. screen I wondered what drove the damn thing into our domain in the middle of the city in broad daylight…and was this beginning of an invasion of nature? A skunk dropped by last week..you don’t have to see them to know they’re there. And of course there are six million squirrels ducking and diving through the trees around here. We saw a fox crossing the parkway last month and rumours have deer and coyotes and even the odd bear wandering into the suburbs these days. Personally I think they’re a lot less dangerous than a lot of the human predators you could pass on the street but people tend to react irrationally to the “encroachment” of nature. The thought of pushing that raccoon off the balcony rail as urged by she who cooks the meals around here…had me counting my fingers and being content with the ten that I have… I declined…broom or no broom. As far as I’m concerned “encroachment” isn’t what’s happening when idiots insist on putting poorly bagged kitchen garbage out three days before the trucks come to take it away. I call that “invitation”. So if you find a black bear standing on your back porch you should ask yourself what you did with the leftovers from those T-bones you had the other night…Then you should call 9-1-1 of course.
Habitat is what we call the homelands of nature’s creatures. Nice neutral terminology, “habitat” …sounds vaguely foreign…Scandinavian maybe. According to the wild-life illiterates around here “habitat” ends at the sign declaring the city limits…as if there should be fine print in some universal animal language on the sign that says “You guys stay out” . Back in the good old days of course…animals that couldn’t read were called “game” or more precisely “fair game” which meant that dad and uncle Clarence could load up the shot guns and put on the rubber boots and go out into the habitat and shoot nature’s ass full of holes…come home and hand mom the carcass then stand around the kitchen with two thumbs stuck in their suspenders and their chests stuck past their shirt buttons. Either the animals have ceased to read the signs on the way into town or they’ve figured out that there are precious few fellas venturing into the habitat these days…at least until somebody invents drive-by duck hunting…No, no, I didn’t even want to think that let alone write it down. I suppose I can understand why the return of wild-life to our balconies and back yards is disconcerting. What if the bastards are after some pay-back? I should have taken a much closer look at that raccoon’s beady little eyes. He could have been casing the joint for a whole gang of his furry pals…They have nasty little hands that look damn near human…suppose they learn how to open the bloody door!!!
Blues
July 2012
Chagal4's Blog 