Rocchina

I was in the upstairs bathroom brushing my teeth yesterday when I looked out the window into the garden and saw what appeared to be a small bear.This is not unlikely as we had in June a huge hoohaa over a two year old black bear who had got himself in a pickle merely two blocks from here on Wells St.

Well on closer examination from the downstairs window it was not a bear but a massive raccoon. Said raccoon seemed a bit dozy. She would amble around then bang into a tree trunk followed by a bit of grooming, rather like when a cat makes a graceless landing and promptly grooms to show you that they meant to fall on their arse. She bumbled her way onto the deck while I hollered for reinforcements from upstairs. While I chased Rocchina back into the yard with help from my handy walking stick and loud profanities, the Better Half started working the phones to see who would take her away. No one apparently. The Ministry of Whatever (Raccoons?) would have to be advised in triplicate.
In the meantime, Girl of the Limberlost is heading for Betty Next Door who has two dogs who are not the sharpest knives in the drawer. I called her to warn her of the approach so she locked up the doggies and came out armed with a broomstick. The two of us beat the bushes with our weapons of choice but no sign of Rocchina. She had vanished into thin air and I sincerely hope that's where she stays.