Innocent until proven guilty by sausage.



If I didn’t follow up on these antics, I feel I would be remiss. So yes, the Raccoon Saga continued.

This morning, all the live traps were full. Apparently, the brains of the operation let his underlings venture out on their own last night. Several of the bandits were captured.

No fish food container-tampering. Just a crew of imprisoned raccoons.

They were a sad lot this morning. They fell for the old “Vienna Sausage Trick.” As Robert Frost once said, “I hold it to be the inalienable right of anybody to go to hell in his own way.”

Before they entered the witness protection program for relocation, I had the chance to interrogate them. I played good cop all the way. Mike gave them ice chips. He was good cop too.

Yet. They were quiet as church mice. Although. At one point, I swear the oldest one made a gesture that resembled the turning of a can opener. I am fairly certain this meant he wanted more of those delicious little sausages. Similar to human inmates asking for a cigarette.

I am glad for the raccoons, really. I was reminded in the discussions this morning, that some places have bears to deal with instead. As I am plenty fond of my porridge, and my just-right bed, I am happy for the raccoon visits instead.

This sad group found a brand new way today, in a different neighborhood. I hope they are okay, and that they make friends with their neighbors in the unknown territory. I hope, very soon, they can go next door and borrow cups of sugar, and such.

And back to our home. My guess is this isn’t over. I fear Einstein, Curly, and Bruno are laying low until the heat wears off.

Until then, we remain under lockdown.


“Come tomorrow, I’ll wake up new.”
― Chad Sugg


“One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.”
― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own


“Ask not what you can do for your country. Ask what’s for lunch.”
― Orson Welles



Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen.
I still don’t know why the caged bird sings.