Scavengers. Just to say the word makes most folks skin crawl. There is an odd disgust at the idea of eating leftovers in the animal kingdom. We live with them day in and day out and rarely ever acknowledging their presence. I have some great scavenger stories and have a new one to add as of yesterday.
Let's start with an oldie or two.
My parents have giant Oaks in their backyard, which means raccoons in Illinois. The masked bandits kept getting in my dad's garage, so he decided to fight back. He borrowed a live trap and we went to work relocating the problem coons. Each night he'd set the trap, and each morning, he'd wake me to take the offender across town to a new zipcode. I'd pull the trap out of the truck, shake the coon to the back of the trap and slowly open the door. Each and every raccoon hightailed it for the woods once that door was open, except the last one. This Kung Fu coon decided he had a bone to pick with me for ruining his evening, or maybe he just wasn't fond of the new neighborhood I had picked for him. He ran out of the trap as usual, but then stopped suddenly, turned and decided he was going to give me a piece of his mind. He bounded on top of the trap and lunged at me, mouth wide, teeth gnashing and grinding. Luckily in my scared recoil all he was able to get his incisors on was the end of one finger of my leather work gloves. His teeth made quick work of the end and if a finger had still been occupying that portion, my nickname today might be Nubby. He felt he had his revenge and headed for the safety of the trees before my workboot could find his rearend. It was a good lesson, not all furry creatures are of the same mind and temperment and some take offense at being inconvenienced in such ways.
My friend's J and C live in Lakewood WA. For a time I stayed with them just after they bought their new home. Out front was a small japanes red maple with a cement pond under its canopy. A beautiful little set-up. The room I stayed in was upstairs with a window wall facing the little pond and my bed was right next too it. C decided to put goldfish in the pond one day. That evening, I was awoken by a ruckus. It sounded like a gang of robbers had come to the Gerwen homestead. In fact, a gang had. The masked bandito gang. About a half dozen raccoons had shown up for the free buffet. I carefully shined my flashlight out and a dozen eyes glared back with green fire and glittery scales on masked faces. It was hilarious. The raccoons were splashing to and fro catching goldfish, gnawing on them and washing them in the little ponds water. My flashlight didn't really bother them in the slightest, they each sat on their haunches enjoying their easy meal and taking in the cool night air.
Brings me to yesterday. Behind my housing unit is the dumpster for the three buildings in my group. As I was walking to my truck to head to church, I heard noises coming for the dumpster, scratching noises. My first thought was that a rodent had gotten in the dumpster and couldn't get out. I had seen this before with a opposum in South Carolina that got in our compost pile. The side door of the dumpster was open and curiousity had me walking towards it to see what was inside. I know that generally this is an invitation to get your face chewed off by some wild creature freaking out but like Pandora I couldn't stop myself. As I approached the rattling got louder and more hurried. When I was within about 6 feet of the dumpster a great black shadow overtook the small window on the dumpster and my heart stopped as my body froze with fear. I saw death coming to claim his due looking like an archangel of satan himself, black wings spread wide and foreboding. The sound of shuffling feathers deadened all around.then he was just there, a raven with a piece of bread sat on the dumpster window looking at me slightly annoyed, then he was off, headed straight for the trees, bread in tow. I couldn't help but laugh and laugh I did boisterously and loud all the way to church.
