The Predator Becomes the Prey

I found this story in my drafts folder from about two years ago!

Raccoon photo courtesy of Pixabay.

We spotted a raccoon. In our yard.

Normally this would be met with a little excitement, mingled with a twinge of fear as in: Don’t let the kids get close; it could be rabid.

But tonight the sight meant: We have chickens! Get that b*stard out of here!

No one said that, of course. The children, after all. But Hubs and I were thinking it.

He grabbed a stick and chased after the raccoon, which jumped on the lattice fence. As it was crawling down the other side, Hubs jabbed the stick through a hole and got the racoon in its belly. It fell the remaining two feet and scurried off.

[If you love all creatures, great and small, including chicken killers, my apologies.]

“That will keep him away. But not for long,” Hubs said.

The children went on the offensive. Armed with sticks and a surprisingly functional  homemade bow and arrow, they kept guard, marching back and forth along the fence.

For about five minutes. Then they ran off to play.

At bedtime the youngest’s parting words to me were, “If the raccoon comes back, maybe we should threaten it with a knife.”

Yep, that oughta do it because nothing frightens woodland creatures like small shiny objects wielded by hobbits.

Modern day update: The raccoon has not resurfaced; although, there was once a skunk within the chickens’ fenced-in area, while the chickens were safely locked in their coop. We gingerly propped the fence open, then hid behind the shed, watching the skunk meander its way out before shutting the fence again. We soon reinforced the fortifications.

Have you had any fun (or not so fun) adventures with wild animals?