Damn raccoon made a dog bark!

I was out on the back deck havin' a smoke just now when I heard another damn raccoon messin' around beneath me. Needless to say I hadn't bothered stickin' my head down there after the last time, so I never really took care of the problem, although I did try takin' a leak over where they were, to try and do that "markin'" thing. I'd been havin' Amstels, though, and my scent might have been kind of diluted, cause obviously this dude wasn't scared. I guess I wouldn't be too worried about a bunch of digested Amstel Light layin' on the dirt, either.

Anyhow, I got kind of mildly pissed and yelled down at the dude.

RAY: What the hell, sucker?! You KNOW this ain't your damn house! You know this is MY house!

RACCOON: squitter squeek squeek

RAY: I KNOW you heard me! Your kind didn't make it this far not bein' able to tell when a dude was pissed!

RACCOON: chitteroo! chit chit! squiteeeek-eek-eek!

RAY: Yeah, I know you only got dog-type language, but it ain't like you don't hear the tone in this voice!

RACCOON: teek-teek-teek! teek teek!

RAY: [alternates slapping open palms on chest, like a gorilla] Ray! Ray! Ray!

RACCOON: squiteek! chitter-pik!

RAY: I...AM...RAY!

RACCOON: [chewing on something]

RAY: I PEE HERE. THIS IS MY LAND. DON'T MESS WITH THE RULES.

RACCOON: [silent]

RAY: GO AWAY.

RACCOON: squitter squeek squeek! [it sounds like he's stepping on tin foil]

RAY: Damn raccoons. [goes inside]

So, again, not too much progress with the raccoons, but a dog next door started barkin' at him too, and pretty soon the whole dog switchboard lit up, and I wouldn't be surprised if the whole nation was listenin' to the "dog Internet" barking five minutes from now. I bet this could be scientifically tracked, how a single dog bark in like Japan could wind up with a little Corgi barking in Buckingham Palace like six hours later, and the queen slaps him on the nose, and the Corgi is like, "Well, shit, dude. I was just sayin'."

Anyhow, kind of complicated thought. Sorry. Totally 90s of me.

Crazy-ass Raccoons!

Daaaamn! I was just out on the back deck when all of a sudden, beneath the boards, something like sixteen crazy raccoons started havin' little squeaky rape-babies and growlfights! I mean, I don't know exactly what was goin' on, but that was my mental impression. I stood out there with a broom in one hand and a brick in the other and just made all kinds of sure that they didn't get anywhere near my door. After a spell a pretty fat raccoon dude charged off across the yard and up a fence, and the fight sounds stopped, and all that was left was squeaky little baby raccoon chitter.

Is it a thing that the man raccoon makes fighting sounds while his little raccoon kids are gettin' born? Because I don't think he was actually fightin' anyone. I think he was just showing what a loud stud he could be. Totally low-class, you know. After a while his wife was all like "Steve would you PLEASE go get some wipes from the gas station! This baby is here NOW!" And Steve was all like "squitter squeek hell yeah I gonna go get some wipes now that I made all my badass sounds."

Anyhow, I might flash my Maglite down between the boards over there tomorrow to make sure there ain't no corpses or whatever, in case I actually mis-heard a bad gangfight or weird extreme fetish group all into mortal-ponyboyin' or deathsmothers. Raccoons are real crass, gettin' into just the lowest of stuff, and almost *always* on other people's property.