Mr. Bonkers prefers a nice warm slab of concrete, with that added je ne sais quoi that cats have where they always make the place they choose look like the most comfortable, logical spot in the universe.
"The quality of a map cannot be judged simply by its scientific precision but by its ability to serve its purpose and in that context aesthetic and design considerations are every bit as important as the mathematical, and often more so." -- Peter Barber, The Map Book
So you’d think a half-coonhound living in the
That’s our mama raccoon, who lives in a hollow in a tree by our neighbor Nate’s house. She’s been around a while. Two summers ago, after Milo died but before we got Dorrie, she actually walked into our kitchen a couple of times looking for catfood – one memorable time when Mya and Kay and I were up late sitting at the table, drinking, and I had to actually chase her out.
Last summer we noticed her tail hanging out of the hole on a regular basis, and figured she was probably nursing babies in there. Sure enough, they started crawling around the tree and eventually one fell out -- luckily both of our animals were inside. It scuttled across the yard, frantically chittering, and she swooped down like an avenging angel and scooped it up by the scruff of its neck. We would see her moving them across our neighbor’s roof, probably shifting them from one den to another the way cats will move their kittens.
Until then, sweet dreams, mama raccoon. May the trash cans of the neighborhood upend themselves quietly for you.