Evans’ Rag
Vol 2 Issue 31
Lanterns in the Basilica Cistern - photo by William E. Evans, 2014
Dogs and Racoons
Dogs maintain grudges against certain other dogs for no discernible reason, and they hardly ever change their minds. Similar to some people and their political parties.
This morning, Layla and I were sitting on the porch near the water enjoying the cool break from the heat we’ve been having. Passing hurricanes help clear the air. Looking up from the laptop, I watched the neighbor’s racoon trot confidently along the seawall heading in our direction. I say he’s the neighbor’s but really he belongs to the world, an international racoon of travel.
Seeing this is a tale I’m telling, I would like to use the colloquial ‘coon’ except that word’s been permanently stained by racists.
When I yelled, the racoon hunkered down behind a mass of ornamental grass, and eventually retreated the way he came with that same rolling swagger. Five minutes later, he returned, like he was on the clock. This time, knowing I was there–and now with Layla who wanted to join the fun–when he drew alongside the pontoon boat, he flipped into the water. And proceeded to swim past our vantage, heading for the creek and out of sight. He’s one cocky son of a bitch.
I texted our neighbor but haven’t heard back; maybe she’s not so amused.