It Came From Behind The Woodshed

She walks
A narrow concrete strip
Across the backyard,
Never guessing the trap being set.
Laying aside her burden of pork rinds and cat litter,
She trudges stoically back.
Neon glow from the back porch
Winking out as
Crickets and nighttime eyes wait for the door to close.

Early to rise, the next morning,
She goes out to drop off one more bag,
An afterthought,
Only to face a screeching and growling that defies the senses.
An Animal!
A huge raccoon that refuses to back off,
Cabbage and pork rinds spread across the yard.

This isn’t the odd part…
In its frenzy,
A single large piece of stone,
Alley rubble waiting to be hauled away,
Has toppled over…
Onto the base of its tail.

Neither one prepared,
They scream a defiant war cry,
Scrambling for better location.

Neighbors are called for,
But they have no neighborly advice.
Phone calls are made.
The animal control people come with a net.

After hours of struggle…
The Animal is
The yard is reclaimed.
And yard duties are re-assigned
To myself until further notice.