No matter how big or vicious your dogs might be, in an encounter with a raccoon, the raccoon is always going to win.
 
 I learned this lesson just recently. Early one evening I heard my kids sending out huge alarm barks. I went zooming outside to see what the problem was and was stopped dead in my tracks. There he was, sitting atop a six-foot wooden fence—the biggest raccoon I’d ever seen. Did he get startled?  Did he run away?  Nope. It was almost like he was sitting there sending out raccoon signals that said “You want me?  Come get me!”  I got the kids in the house and shut the door. Ira and I went out for a few hours, and assumed that after so long surely the critter must be gone. Wrong again. I opened the door, the kids ran out, and in less than thirty seconds I heard it. That sound all dog owners know that tells us somebody is after somebody, but we have no idea who might win. Let me tell you flat out--it’s the raccoon. Again I had to grab Nessa and Dazzy and pull them inside. Nessa had a few small punctures that were defense wounds from the culprit’s claw. A half hour later that sucker was still roaming around in our yard. We called animal control. They arrived within an hour, and that raccoon wandered our yard the entire time acting like he didn’t have a care in the world. Right up until the time he heard the beeping of the animal control truck backing up. I’ve spoken to other people who have faced this problem, and all stories are the same. Barking, tossing things, water; it doesn’t matter. Nothing will deter a raccoon—except, of course, beeping trucks.            

I have learned that size and bravery do not go hand in hand.
 
Mitzi is a shepherd mix who is an honorary member of our family. She comes to play with Nessa and Dazzy a few days a week. One month every winter, she stays here while her parents go to Germany. When she is here, I think she thinks she is at camp. She jumps up to lie on the sofa. She sleeps on my bed. She runs in and out through the dog door. Out of all three dogs, Mitzi outweighs my biggest, Nessa, by at least thirty pounds. Mitzi also happens to have what is, at least in comparison to my dogs, an unusual fear of wind. Not being out in it...just hearing it while inside the house. We have had a blustery winter while she was visiting here. I have spent many a night with a 75-pound vibrating dog on my lap. Mitzi and I go into the living room, I put the television on low, and I try to find something to watch to aid my staying awake with her. It wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t sit on my lap. Ever try to watch TV around a dog that size?  It isn’t easy. We are just ending a 48 hour stretch of major wind storms. We are both sitting comfortably on the sofa. We are both taking Xanax.


 

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Hi everybody.  Welcome to my blog.  I have been a dog lover since birth.  Some years back that loved melted into a love of birds.  Join me on a journey past and present with me and , at this moment, 3 rescue dogs and 13 birds.  I was never allowed to have a dog growing up, so when I moved into my first apartment I made it a goal to make up for lost time.  
Let me fill you in on some of the people in my life who have no doubt helped mold me into the person I am today.  Most of my family is estranged because so many of them are so...well, strange.  One of my favorite cousins was, and still is one of the most oblivious people I've ever met.  After having a family dinner at his mom's house he stood talking to my sister while he watched as she scraped dish after dish of what food was left on the plates  into the drain.  After scraping several plates she looked around for the switch to the garbage disposal.  She asked my cousin where it was.  His straight faced answer?  We don't have one.
Then there is my beloved niece who at age 22 looked at me one day and asked if it was the sun or the moon we fly over to get to Iceland.  Seeing a thread here?  Don't get me wrong.  I have racked up several clueless moments myself.  Still to this day I continue to show not how much I know, but how much I don't know.  After moving into a new neighborhood, I found a group of people who walked their dogs at a nearby school.  One day I was listening to some women talking about 'Coach'  purses.  For the life of me I couldn't understand why anyone would need a special purse to ride a train.
I got my first dog 30 years ago, and my life has been one long ride on a merry go round.  Please join me as I share 30 years of experience and laughter as I tell you about the day my life went to the dogs.  I will be posting every few days, so please check in and share with your friends.