What are the commonalities? Why, they’re all occurring simultaneously at my house, along with a dentist appointment, new carpet, new living room furniture, two malfunctioning computers and a stack of boxes waiting for me on the front stoop. Let ‘em wait.
I don’t know about your husband, but mine can sleep through a tornado. Which is why every dog we’ve ever had, every cat we’ve ever had and every child we’ve ever had comes to me in the middle of the night when he and/or she needs something.
So last night…no wait…early this morning, 3:15 a.m., to be precise, the dog woke me up with a nose in my face. He wanted to go outside to pee. Because that’s what he does, pees in the middle of the night. But hey, at least he wakes me up, right?
I go downstairs in the dark, Jake at my heels, flip on the yard light and let him outside. Oh. My. God. He hightails it in the direction of the basketball court and I hear the most god-awful commotion – shrieking, running, crashing, banging and barking, so I rush outside in time to see a bobcat, a squirming raccoon held tight in its jaws, fly up into our fruitless pear tree, Jake in hot pursuit. Jake proceeds to try to leap into the tree after the bobcat, overturning two ceramic planters and knocking down a stack of firewood in his frenzy.
I try to get him to come back to me without waking the entire neighborhood, oh… damn… he’s already done that… I run into the house to find some shoes, any shoes. I head to the bedroom at top speed, throw everything off the dresser, frantic to find my flip flops as I listen to hysterical barking from the dog, growling from the bobcat and screeching from the raccoon. My husband is sleepin’ peacefully, just like little baby, while I’m waiting on police sirens.
I run back outside, freezing in my Andres Torres tee shirt, my surgi-scrub pants and flip flops. I’m chasing the dog around and around the tree, hopping over the planters, tripping over scattered logs, branches shaking above my head, praying the bobcat doesn’t drop the raccoon. Because I just know the sucker’ll land right on top of me.
Finally I get the dog to sit – yes, believe it or not Jake is trained to sit/stay, which he does, right beneath the bobcat. He’s not wearing a collar so I grab him by the hair of his neck and haul him back in the house, turn off the outside light and wait for the bobcat to take his raccoon and go, but of course he doesn’t move, and the dog still has to pee. Damn.
So, I put on his collar and leash, return to the backyard and walk him over to the grass.
“Go potty, Jake.” Seems like such a silly thing to say when there’s a bobcat holding a screaming raccoon in its jaws, staring at you from the nearby tree. But when you gotta go, you gotta go.
Jake does as he’s told and we return to the house.
Needless to say, neither of us slept after that. But my husband never stirred.
There was no trace of the bobcat or the raccoon when I went out back this morning to clean up the mess. This is the third raccoon the cat has taken from our yard this year, at least the third raccoon I’m aware of. Apparently we have an endless supply. Good hunting grounds.
Speaking of cats and hunting – remember to enter for your chance to win a big batch of books from me. (See yesterday’s post.) Leave me a comment and you can win a tote of paperbacks or maybe a pdf of my entire backlist.
Love you all. Hope my NEW computer is fixed tomorrow. I baked two batches of Melt-In-Your-Mouth Cookies, a triple batch of our super-secret Chocolate Cherry Cookies, and a double batch of Heart Attack Bars. And I made some fudge for the mail lady ‘cuz she’s so nice.