Into the Woods

Into the woods
And down the dell,
The path is straight,
I know it well.
Into the woods,
And who can tell
What’s waiting on the journey?

Last night, I chased a raccoon off our screened-in porch. Since he lives down in the rocky woods, I shall call him Rocky Raccoon. Wasn’t there a song by that title?

Holly thought I was too harsh to the critter and that I had probably scared him as I encouraged him to go back “Into the Woods.” But in my book, you have to make sure these fellas don’t get too comfortable in and around your house. They can do things ranging from annoyances – like turning over your trash – to more destructive – like damage to your house and siding.

No, I think he’ll be much more comfortable going back into the woods (and I will be more comfortable with that, too). He was a full grown raccoon as opposed to the youngster I found on the back porch back in the fall. Who knows? Maybe it’s the same guy ‘all growed up.’

One of the things we love about our place is the wooded area at the back and side of our house. It’s home to a mature community of wildlife. We have at least two red tailed hawks and we notice red bellied woodpeckers (who greet us with their signature call).

Roger enjoys hunting in the woods and frequently turns up with various types of rodents. But I think he also understand there are dangers lurking in those woods, too. At times, he seems rattled by various sounds and smells when he peeks outside the door.

Once, he encountered a red fox. I had just let him out early one morning. The sun hadn’t even risen over the horizon when I heard the telltale cry of the fox out back. I looked outside. The fox was at the edge of the woods; Roger was about halfway down the bank into the back yard. I checked out the fox, the fox stared at Roger, Rog looked at me. Soon, like a streak of rusty greased lightning, Roger bolted back up the hill, up the stairs, onto the porch (the same one visited by the raccoon) and back inside.

The first time I had heard the fox, though, wasn’t as benign. It happened in the middle of the night. If you’ve never heard a fox cry – especially when you are fast asleep – it’s something you’ll never forget. It really does sound haunting.(If you go to this link, click on #8 and #17 and imagine hearing that very loudly around 3 a.m.!).

It scared the (you-know-what) out of me.

I was telling Holly the story about how Lisa and I saw a funny sign on the subway during one of our trips to Montreal. I thought I remembered it depicting a raccoon as a bandit - a logical assumption with the black ‘mask’ on their faces. But when I went back and looked at the photo, it was actually a cartoon image of a red fox.

It read “Passez sans payer; c'est fraudir!” (In other words, if you don’t pay for your ride, you are a thief!). Raccoon; Red Fox? I guess either could be equally tricky. But it was definitely a cartoon fox in the fuzzy photo.

From a subway ride in Montreal to being awakened out of a dead sleep is quite a leap. Yet, I really did experience both. And Roger definitely experienced his encounter that day with the red fox.

Who knows (but I wouldn’t be surprised to learn) that he has also encountered Rocky Raccoon during his travels.

As if a den of foxes wasn’t scary enough, there was also talk of coyotes roaming in West Knox County. Some residents of our neighborhood said they saw them. I never did. But, if Rog peeks his head out the door some morning and refuses to go out, I cut him a break. Rocky Raccoon is one thing; Wile E Coyote is quite another.

As I said earlier, you just never know who (or what) may be lurking if you are a small orange cat who decides to go into these woods. Who can tell what’s waiting on the journey?

JG   

(Source: lyricsondemand.com)

Originally posted 4/12/2012