I try my best to be engaged in worthy causes, even with my free time. My efforts led this week to a humble contribution to the survival of the magnificently hideous Condor.
Enter our neighbor, the friendly raccoon.
We find signs of our neighbors in our yard daily, whether it be something removed from the garbage can now kicking around the patio, or muddy paw prints on the windshield. We have unwillingly fed them into fat complacency. It was time for them to contribute something to a higher cause. Driving to the store just yesterday evening, I saw the roaming gang of coons meandering about 20 yards or so in front of the car. Judging by the number of glowing orbs moving slowly across the street there were about 6 of them throwing a drunken garbage binge. On a Wednesday night, of all nights! (Don't they have work?) Toying with the pack I swerved playfully in their general direction, swerving away at the last moment. (My conscience wouldn't allow me to take the group out like that) I was rewarded with a loud bump -- the genius of the pack had fudged an escape attempt TOWARD the car. Big time.
Needless to say I was torn. Between my loathing for scavenging pests and that deep-down soft spot for something that could be construed as cute. By someone less a man than myself, anyway. *cough*
Long story short, I felt a tinge of regret. I told Brenda what happened, and she asked the typical motherly question, "Did you stop and see if it was alive?" Really, that thought hadn't even crossed my mind. Would you stop to see if the spider you stomped on was okay? Maybe take him to the vet?
The moral of the story is that that raccoon knew somehow that he would be a meal for a real in-the-flesh Condor. Brenda got to see the big bird carrying the carcass to the side of the road Thursday afternoon. No regrets, the circle of life will continue for a truly needy species. Now if I could only meet the rest of that coon gang again...
