The Raccoon

I was awakened abruptly at 5:59am this morning to a phone call from Julia's eldest daughter. My thought process went something like this: why is my phone ringing, where am I, do I have to work today, wait...it's Camille, it's 5:59am, why is she calling me, something has happened to Julia, OH MY GOD! Then Julia's voice came over the line "Jen...there is a raccoon in the house, what do I do?" And her voice was seemingly calm. And so I responded "well, call animal control," just as calmly. After the fact, it cracks me up that we had such a calm conversation about such a terrifying thing.

I was reminded of course of my first night sleeping in Boulder, when we left the back sliding glass door open and I walked into the kitchen to see a raccoon standing on his hind legs eating dog food out of the cabinet, dog looking on hoping to play with this creature. Instead of waking up my dad and handle the situation, I decided I would scare the raccoon and chase him off. Luckily it worked and both the dog and I were unscathed. But what was I thinking!?

So finally the police came, beat the creature into submission and released it outdoors. Turns out it was a possum, not a raccoon.