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Wang Dang…

December 13, 2023 /

A short while ago, there was a ruckus on the back porch. The dogs and I went out to investigate, and when I shined my light around, I saw a hunched, gray figure hurrying up the ridge into the woods.

All I can say is that if Joy Cartwright and I get awakened in the wee hours because of this interloper and our dogs’ determination to dialogue with him, someone is going to get a piece of firewood laid across the cranium with precision and dispatch.

Like livin’ in Nashville up in here…

~ S.K. Orr

 

2 Comments

  • Lewis

    December 14, 2023 at 8:11 pm

    Don’t worry SK, I don’t think that the Gray Ghost Raccoon will hit you over the head. Might be a good idea to cover the firewood though just in case. That raccoon is most likely a true Virginian with a long ancestry in the Old Dominion. Why his ancestors may have actually seen Stonewall Jackson, John Mosby, and, perhaps, even Robert E. Lee! You’ll recall that Jeb Stuart had a pet raccoon that sat on the barrel of the cannon outside his tent! With that type of lineage, I would welcome him and perhaps leave some tasty Christmas cheer for him.
    And do tell him that he is always welcome with me.

    Now Nashville is a different story, my friend there tells me. A LOT of craziness going on there. But that is what they wanted it seems. I think that the raccoons and possums have left middle Tennessee as refugees south to Alabama, a more convivial location for them.

    A very Merry Christmas to you!

    • admin

      December 16, 2023 at 3:10 pm

      So good to hear from you, Lewis, my brother. I’m not worried about the Gray Ghost Raccoon hitting me….I hope he and/or the dogs are worried about ME hitting them. And I’ll be glad to send him your way. I need to find out if FedEx or UPS is cheaper…

      Your reminder about Jeb Stuart’s coon led me to remember that General Lee kept a pet hen in his tent, and retrieved an egg from her each morning.

      And for the record, the whole Nashville/raccoon/Tang thing was an eye-rolling play on words not worth explaining. My wife didn’t get it, either, and she can usually decipher my weird attempts at humor very quickly. Not this time.

      And a very Merry Christmas to you, my dear friend.