I am sitting here listening to Mighty Sam McClain sing The Blues, and wondering to myself why anyone would move to a place called Oak Hill Woods Condominiums, buy a free-standing unit backed up against the woods, and then bitch because there are wild animals in those woods. I mean, I was a city boy, but I spent my weekends at my maternal grandparents’ and one week each summer at my paternal grandparents’, and they were farmers and hunters. I was hunting squirrels alone with a .16 gauge at the age of fourteen. Switched to a .22 rifle with a scope at seventeen when I was working and could afford to buy one. A Marlin lever action saddle gun, it was. Straight stock, short barrel, and easier to sneak through the brush with, slung on my back. I made the sling myself out of an old brown leather belt. Perfect. But I digress. I have caught fish and turtles, run with the ‘coon hounds (though we carried no guns), howled at the full moon with the wolves, and danced under its light with thirteen raccoons at my feet. I have paddled up Pigeon Creek in the dark under that moon, and I have feared nothing. If it isn’t severely injured or rabid it is not going to bother me. Startle me? Yes, on occasion, but fear it, no. I am there, they are there, and I have chosen to be out there with them whenever I can all of my life. I do not fear them, and many of them do not fear me. I maintain respect as being the biggest raccoon, or fox, or cat, or bird, simply by standing to show my size, clapping my hands three times loudly, and saying in a stern voice, “What the hell is going on out here?” Sometimes I’ve had to do it twice in the midst of a ‘coon disagreement, but never more. I just keep moving forward and bristling with authority. If it ever does fail, I am going to figure injury or rabies is involved and haul ass for the house. That’s just the way it is. At any rate (did I say that before?), Lisa and I chose to live here precisely because the tree-line is ten feet beyond the edge of our patio, and the woods is full of creatures we love to watch, and interact with if they’ll let us. We had to stop hand-feeding bread and dog biscuits to the raccoons at the behest of the HOA. We immediately agreed of course, since they said we could put out ground pans at the tree-line with food for them, so long as we did not entice them out of the woods. We have adhered to that religiously. I no longer have baby raccoons playing with my toes through the holes in my fisherman’s sandals, nosing my knee, sitting between my feet so the big ‘coons don’t take their bread, or trying to climb up my leg into my lap. I am denied that now, because these raccoons were “aggressive.” I never found them to be so. And I would much rather deal with animals I know than deal with the newcomers all over again when they arrive to replace the ones that were “trapped and relocated.” For God’s sake, Oak Hill Woods Condominiums has woods and gullies all through it, and is bordered by Pigeon Creek, and all of this is prime wildlife habitat: As fast as you move someone out, someone else is going to move in, forever, and ever, and ever. Mother Nature will prevail. You will be dead, and they will still be here. Make friends, or at least tolerate and cohabit, with those who lived here long before you, those who live here because of you, and those who will live here when you are dead and forgotten. Life will prevail. In the long run, nature and her creatures will win, and you will be nothing but bones, and, if you’re lucky, a brief memory for someone. Betty, this is for you, bitch. You know who, and what you are: a spiteful, controlling bitch. Does your very nice husband ever speak? I have never heard his voice. That is very disturbing. Do you psychologically abuse him like you do everyone else within your sphere? Should I report you? If you abuse any woodland creatures, I assure you, I know how to dial 911, since I was sitting on the log in Pigeon Creek wondering how to hail a taxi, and Lisa’s suggestion seemed best. Would you like to go canoeing with me sometime? Next spring during the rains would be good. I should warn you, it can be hazardous on creeks in flood. I didn’t care. I have never feared death. It is part of life. You game, or just all mouth? Just wondered.
You know, you could just worry ’bout yo’self. I don’t bother nobody, and I don’t understand why people do.