Monday, February 7, 2011

IN THE WILDS OF murray (PART 1)

I may have written about this before, any of you that spend time with me have undoubtedly heard these tales before.
So what.
I am telling them again. Not least because the neighbor whose house I shot just died. Rest her soul she was a sweet woman and now it is safe to tell the story.
I live in the City. Murray City. Its near Salt lake City and fairly close to downtown. I have a large backyard that is mostly overgrown and filled with various hidden wonders.
That being said, its still the city.
We had a Raccoon problem.
At first it was cool. We would see one or two in the backyard, eyes shining as they foraged for food. We would bring the kids to the window and point and laugh and think how lucky we were to see this symbol of wild America living freely in our backyard, in the city.
What horseshit.
Then they started getting into things. Garbage cans were first. Stinky rotten diapers and spoiled food strewn every which way and hither and yon, as if they had pillow fights with the sacks. Then the cat-food. Then they started to eat the fish in my pond. Then the final straw. They ate my kids cat.
Not the whole cat. Just the soft bits. They left the head for me to find. Centered on my deck. looking at the house.
It was war.
I shot the first one with a pellet gun. I pumped that gun up until I couldn't move the lever at all. I waited for the little furry rasshole to look at me and I shot him right between the eyes.
He blinked at me.
Scratched his head with one of his amazingly articulated fingers, and went back to eating the cat food.
I chased him away, yelled and screamed. Figure the lead in the brain would kill him later.
Then I found the pellet.
Flattened.
No penetration.
War.
The next one almost got me. Almost got the wife. It was terrifying. Child #1 told us she could hear a brand new momma kitty and its babies in the greenhouse. She has super bionic ears, always has. So we went out to look.
The Wife stood by the door and I crept to the back of the greenhouse. We had all of the deck cushions piled up and we figured under them was a good place for the babies to be born...
I lifted the cushions one at a time, making soft non-threatening noises to keep mama kitty calm.
With the last cushion mama kitty turned into a ball of enraged raccoon. Came right up my arm hissing and snarling and snapping its enraged teeth.
I, being the epitome of American manliness, the brave blood of pioneers and soldiers coursing through my veins.
Screamed like a girl and tried to run away.
I went one way, the coon went the other. I bounced off the brick wall. Hard. The coon went right for the door. The only way out.
Right up the wife's leg and onto her head.
I bounced off two more walls like a crazed pinball and managed to grab the maniacal creature and throw it down behind me.
 I grabbed the nearest weapon and turned to wage war on this snarling beast. This rabid menace. I faced it head on to defend what was mine.....
With a hot dog fork.
shit.
I stabbed it as hard as I could and predictably the fork started to bend like a soggy pool noodle. I was yelling, wife was screaming, coon was snarling like a leopard, I was reaching back for anything, a shovel, anything! I felt the solid weight of a yard tool and begun to beat the coon to death.
it took a long time.
Not least because the weapon I had managed to secure was just a rake.
A little pink and blue barbie rake.
It was a little humiliating.
War.
Did you ever read as a child the tale of the billy goats gruff? The wee little goat is replaced by its gruff big brother? And so the long day wore on....
I had slain the littlest coon in the neighborhood.
His brother came after me a few night later.
I heard him hissing my name.
I bypassed the previously failed pellet gun and kicked the stupid rake out of the way. I went right for the BFG, rules and laws be dammned.
A 45LC single action cowboy gun.
The coon, lousy arrogant bastard, was standing on my fence. Mocking me.
I stepped out into the night. Gun by my side, a glint in my eye.
He hissed and me and reared up in challenge, still perched on the fence.
I took a deep breath, steadied my aim and....
The roar shook the neighborhood.
The raccoon. Flipped me the bird and ambled off. Cackling.
War.
To be cont......

6 comments:

THUNDER said...

ROTFLMAO

awesome said...

Ok so first of all I have a great coon trap that I got without my moms permition and if you want to
barrow it game on BUT if you catch any thing you have to ether give me the animal dead or alive.(alive prefred) I then will skin the dang thing, tan it then fashion my self a nice coon skin hat. Please reply

Ali B said...

Raccoons will seriously fuck with you. I would nearly opt for crocodile swims...

Ali B said...

I meant alligators. I'm tired...

Aimee said...

More!

Nikki Rules said...

Oh my god... what a story! Friggin racoons. I've got loads of coon stories. Little buggers are so domesticated now!

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