It’s been a whirlwind tour. Two weeks away from work,
though only one away “from business”. We left the Saturday before Jul 4th
for the annual trip to the grandparents up north. Not only did we need to be
ready for that trip, but I had to make sure my ducks were in a row for my
assignment at work that would take place immediately after coming home from a
week’s vacation. There would be no office-stopping in between. Having made
arrangements with a test house in Chicago, shipping instructions for a full
sized vehicle to get to said test house, arrangements with a Mexico-traveler
witnessing the testing. External shipping docs to get test equipment from
Waterloo….etc. etc. Rental car, hotel, yada, yada. So perhaps my mind wasn’t
entirely on vacation…while on vacation. Nevertheless, it was a nice break, but
the temps were hot and humid. No major scores up north but an RR-10 managed to
find its way home from Minneapolis.
Back at the Lodge, we were left with the weekend. Arrived
home Friday night to 104F in the bedroom. One might say it wasn’t exactly
sleeping weather. Actually, with the place closed up for a week and the
humidity being so high, we decided to head into town and take advantage of the
parents’ vacancy. Except they were experiencing climatic conditions of their
own up north- rain. And lots of it. So they packed it in and were on their way
back to town as well. Exhausted from our trip, we spent the night with the AC
and bummed around Saturday running errands and hitting the thrift stores.
I should pause here to mention our cats. Little Kitty had 5
kittens before we left. At the time of departure, we were down to 4, figuring the
smallest one had been given up on by the mother. Nature’s cruel ways and all
that. Cara’s friend watched the cats while we were away but had mentioned prior
to our return, that plants had been knocked over and Little Kitty had a swollen
eye; happened sometime between her visits. Hmm. Fast forward to our return and
things looked like a war zone. Little Kitty had lost fur over one eye and had a
pretty big open wound. The spotlight in front of the lodge had been ripped out
of the ground, rock strewn everywhere. The potted tree was missing half its
dirt, and looked like it too had been overturned (and fixed by Cara’s friend).
Electric wiring and landscaping cloth had been ripped out from under the side
deck. All the grass and dirt clawed away around the deck as though someone or
something had been trying to get under there. Lots of digging along the
driveway edge too. Muddy prints everywhere. And poor little kitty staggering
around looking generally exhausted. WTF?
We cleaned things up and hung out with the cats for a while
that evening. Sunday morning, I set my alarm to be up and working outside a
little after 7 on the new building. But it was a bittersweet cause. The one
little kitten we had considered keeping for ourselves, “Scamp”, the littlest
guy that would follow us all around the yard and climb right into your lap, was
taken overnight. Presumably devoured by whatever had done all this damage. Of
course Little Kitty was of no help. She could care less about the kittens. I
proceeded to work on CS3 soffits the majority of the day and come nightfall, we
scooped up the remaining 3 kittens and took them inside. I took a seat on the
front balcony with the rifle and waited.
Sure enough. Right after dusk they arrived. Two huge raccoons,
snarling at each other for food. Tearing up everything in their path. Digging.
Knocking things over. Their grunts, snarls and shrieks something almost unworldly.
My pulse raced as I eased my way along the balcony, trying to size up the
situation. Now it was dark, only the cone lights on the building providing
illumination. Here one was, over at the side deck devouring bits of cat food. I
lined up my shot in the dark, pulled the trigger….. Neither the raccoon nor I
knew what happened next. The water bowl, just inches in front of the ‘coon, exploded
into a dozen pieces of flying ceramic. I raced across the balcony keeping pace
with the animal. Him and his cohort made it to the grassy area west of the
driveway and I took what shots I could. I’m pretty confident at least 1 or 2 of
those shots were successful, but I’m also now pretty confident a .22 is no
match for a large, angry raccoon.
And then the next morning I left for Chicago.
