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When you live in a forest, you get to see many sites that city dwellers hardly get to see.
I have lived in both. As a teenager we lived just outside of Beavers Bend State Park North of Broken Bow Oklahoma.
For you Star Trek Fans: Yes, they got it wrong, it is not open plains with miles of corn fields. It is a mountain region with miles of forest.
One day, we heard the dogs going crazy and went to see what might have wondered into our neck of the woods. There are cougars, Bob Cats, deer and even snakes. On this occasion we found a raccoon hiding in a small tree. After closer examination we saw a trap on his foot that was hanging down from a chain.
My Father, decided we needed to help this critter and sent me to get the ladder while my brother put the dogs inside the house.
Me, with all of my wonder and awe was ready and willing to help this poor creature get free of the trap.
I soon found out, the coon had other ideas.
I set up the ladder and climbed to the lowest branch. Reaching up, I grabbed the limb and pulled myself up higher where I was close to the coon, but not close enough. I figured I was about ten feet off the ground by this time, standing on a thin branch that was swaying in the breeze.
The bandit looked at me with trepidation and fear as I made my way closer. He slowly backed up and hissed at me in warning. I moved a little closer.
Suddenly, the coon lurched in my direction. I backed peddled and lost my footing. The cold hand of fear grabbed my heart as I flailed me arms about to grab anything. I ended up grabbing a limb as my feet split the difference of a branch. It was all that kept me from singing soprano the rest of my life. Yet, the impact was still enough to want to let go and grab my neither regions in pain.
As the leaves and branches began to settle, I found myself face to face with the black masked monster I had been dumb enough to feel all warm and cuddly over! He looked almost serenely at me, his face seemed to show empathy. Just before he showed me his sharp fangs!
He jumped at me and landed on head. Here I was, a branch between my legs, my arms above my head holding on for dear life and a twenty pound Raccoon dancing on skull!
I screamed like a little girl shown a spider! I let go of the branch and grabbed the chain that was now hanging in my face. Big mistake.
When I grabbed the chain, it pulled the felonious Procyon toward my face. Of course, in fear he grabbed three handfuls of hair and the fight was on!
I saw his butt setting right in front of my eyes (talk about stink!) and grabbed his tail with my free hand. This made him pull the other direction and we were soon tumbling out of the tree. I swear, I hit every branch going down. I even hit every one that had been above me and I know I hit each one of twice.
My Dad had always joked that it was not the fall that kills you, it is the sudden stop. I had news for him. When you are falling through a tree with a coon hanging onto your head you start praying that the fall would kill you! At least, until that sudden stop comes up!
We hit the ground with the coon on top of me and me on my back. Yet, as I did my Father and brother jumped in and tried to help. Dad grabbed the chain and my brother grabbed the tail and both of them pulled. Of course, this pulled hair, MY HAIR! I yelped in pain with the little breath left that had not been shot out upon impact with the ground.
I saw the coon come up away from me. He was clawing and ranting like a pair of conservatives and liberals looked in the same room, only this time it was in the same body.
They stretched him out and it dawned on me that they were yelling for me to release the trap. I slowly got up and moved toward them.
I grabbed the chain and Dad grabbed the coon by the scruff of his neck. Holding the chain taught, I stepped on the release and the trap slipped off his foot. My Brother let go of the tail and my Dad was left holding the coon.
The coon quickly turned to bite and started clawing at Dad's arms. It back paws finally stretched Dad and he quickly tossed the Coon away from us.
The Raccoon was free to go. Yup! The best laid plans..........
Turning quickly, the Coon shot toward my brother. I swear, at that time my brother could have beat an Olympic sprinter. He quickly ran for the deck. My Dad, moved as fast as he could, jumped into our old 1970 Plymouth Fury III and slammed the door.
Yeah, that left me. He looked me and limped to one side as he slowly moved forward. I gave a mean look and slowly stepped back. We stood there staring at each other for several moments. His beady eyes watching to see what I would do.
Suddenly, I saw my opening and ran for Dad's Pick up truck! Hitting the bumper I jumped into the bed and kept moving. I jumped to the roof and grabbed a low hanging branch and swung my legs up!
Hanging there like a sloth, I looked down for my torturer. He was simply limping away knowing he had gotten the best of each of us.
