A Raccoon Odyssey Poem by Steven S. Walsky

A Raccoon Odyssey



The sky was starry
and the moon so bright
the tent inviting
after a day of fun and hikes.

So it was easy
for an eleven-year-old's eyes to close,
a restful sleep
hoping to unfold.

Then past midnight
in the dead of the night
awakened by a rustling
a sound not right.

Slowly my eyes adjusted to the dark
and thankfully
I did not
move with a start.

A raccoon was there munching
on Oreo cookies left out,
soon to use my face as a pillow,
so I did not shout 'get out'.

What seemed like hours
finally passed,
and the raccoon did amble
away at last.

Without even a thank you,
but who was I to complain,
I lost a few cookies,
but my face was the same.

(A Raccoon Odyssey, copyright Steven S. Walsky 2013, all rights reserved.)

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Having spent endless hours in the woods behind my house, I was, at least in my mind, by eleven years old well aware of the haunts of nature; and of course I had that wonderful experience with a vicious squirrel, as I mentioned in the poem Squirrel Attack. I was especially well aware of the danger from raccoons. I saw firsthand on one too many occasions how a raccoon’s sharp claws dealt with a nosey dog; not to mention dreaded rabies. Thus, at eleven I knew I had to be careful when I went on my first Boy Scout camp out. However, I was eleven, and who listens to adults anyway.

We had a great day and it was time to say adios to the stars. Being tired from all that fun, it did not take long to fall asleep. Sometime after midnight I was woken by a rustling sound inside the tent. Being well versed in vampire and extra-terrestrial movies, I knew not to leap up. I slowly opened my eyes. And there in front of my face was the rear end of a raccoon; a big one.
The raccoon was apparently about to enjoy the Oreo cookies I had left out next to my sleeping area. With cookie in hand, the raccoon backed up and started using my face as a pillow. I knew not to move; as the last thing I wanted was for the obviously comfortable critter to swing around and rip my face open. Thankfully my breathing did scare — nor deter — the raccoon from its snack time; so I remained motionless for at least seventy-six hours…OK, about two minutes…until the varmint had its fill and waddled away.

I learned two things that night, don’t keep food in your tent, and raccoons do not say thank you when they eat your food.
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