Sighting

7:30pm Tuesday 14th October
Venice CA 90291

Perhaps they suffer delusions of diminutiveness or perhaps they’re plain stupid. But I’d probably bank my money on them being in possession of one phat attitude and a whole lot of spunk. If you were a nocturnal creature the size of an English bulldog whose very nature was to be covert and stay out of harm’s and humans' way, you’d think that neighborhood raids would be strategically planned for the dead of night.

I’m talking about raccoons. I won’t call them the colloquial as that is a derogatory and highly offensive term for a black person back home in Australia. I LOVE these raccoon creatures (très exotic to me, like a kangaroo would be to my non-Australian readers) and have been lucky enough to experience three Venice sightings in just as many years.

Last night, from my open front door I heard a vigorous rustling of the tree out front and went to investigate. Stopping in my tracks on my front porch at 7:30pm (a high-activity period for my street with cars returning home from work and the same workers walking dogs and jogging) three fat, furry, bandit-faced critters stood lined up like ducks in a row, staring at me but 8 feet away on the sidewalk. And they were huge. H-U-G-E.

Then, to the plodding and exuberant "Baby Elephant Walk” soundtrack in my head, all three single file and completely conspicuous, waddled, hobbled and shuffled across and up and back and forth and down the street. Investigating every garbage bin, tree, fence line, car and porch in their path from every angle. They made a completely humorous trio, totally unfazed by my presence.

With the extended tales I have heard from a couple of woods-dwelling friends from Vancouver who hand-raised and kept an orphaned, baby raccoon for the term of his natural life, I understand that it is not wise to have one. But I want one. I really, really want one. Share your tales of raccoon encounters; I’d love to hear more!