By Peppermint Patti
JOTR Columnist
Lest you get the idea I’m totally anti-two-legger, Sophie, let me hasten to assure you that I believe two-leggers can be talented and even brilliant.
Within their narrowly-defined areas of expertise, two-leggers certainly have their uses, from a dog’s point of view.
Food, water, walks and treats come to mind.
Just don’t push them beyond their limits.
Case in point: They are lousy at catching raccoons.
Oh, to be sure, there may be, here and there, a two-legger who’s developed the skills we need to off raccoons.
But certainly I’ve never met one. A two-legged raccoon-killer, that is.
My two-leggers are of the citified, gentrified variety.
But that didn’t stop my male two-legger from trying to nail a raccoon.
Now I ask you, why would a raccoon be climbing each and every one of our back yard pine trees, in broad daylight, no less?
This was a question that perplexed both of my two-leggers when they saw what the bandit was doing.
Who do you think drew their attention to this bold invasion of my back yard?
Of course, me. I barked and barked and didn’t hold back. Five minutes of frenetic yapping finally got their attention.
When they saw the masked marauder, their first thought was, Why is he going up that tree?
Moi, I don’t waste time on philosophy.
A ring-tail on my property leaves me one option: extreme prejudice.
As in termination with.
I can’t think of a single use for a living raccoon.
But I can think of a lot of ways to off one, followed by days and days of feasting and chewing.
If I were left to my own devices.
But no, our male two-legger spouted dire warnings about what would happen to me — MOI — if I tangled with a masked varmint.
I don’t know what he thinks — I’d go head to head with that nasty villain?
Come up from behind is what I’d do, grab his neck and give him a hard shake.
Snap his spine and then the fun begins! Treats for all.
Raccoon tartare anyone?
But it was not to be.
What do you think my two-legger does?
Finds an old machete and starts banging on the tree.
What does the bandit do?
Starts coming down the tree, head-first, aiming at my two-legger.
And where am I when the crisis breaks?
Locked inside, watching the farce unfold through glass.
I barked so loud and long and jumped at the window so many times the female two-legger grabbed me and locked me in a bedroom!
The male two-legger came in then. I looked him over. No fang marks.
“Digression,” he said, “Is the better part of valor.”
