Racoons and rallies.
1:47am. I am awakened by a “thud!” near my head. Hm. Something on the roof. Scratching sound at the window. Malia the little dog is barking her head off. I raise the shade.
A small raccoon is sitting on my second story bedroom window sill.
Malia’s barking does not faze it. It finds me slightly more fierce, and scampered a few feet away. I wratchet open the window and it disappears into the deeper darkness.
In the morning I find that a pile of wooden shingles have been wrenched off the house under my window.
Admittedly the curious little rascal was cute as a puppy. But I’m (marginally) beyond the seduction phase. I don’t fall for the “they were here first” line because that’s not true; raccoons were brought west by 19th century settlers for the purpose of fighting and gambling. I’ve seen the talons, heard the hissss, the mating screams that make one think to call the cops—and now, in this issue, our resident naturalist Diane Olson educates us about raccoon ringworm. Yep, it’s gross. (Diane loves gross and is very good at it.) For educational purposes we should have illustrated the story with a “raccoon latrine”—a pile of raccoon poop. But we wanted you to read the story, so we didn’t.
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I can’t believe I’m writing about raccoon poop instead of the Climate Change March (last week) and the Monumental March (for Bears Ears and Grand Staircase Escalante Monuments) next Saturday. Suffice it to say this town is alive and thriving with empowered people who are unafraid to show up for the things they love and wish to protect. While the reasons we must gather are sobering, there’s joy in the gathering. Lots of people are getting “A”s in civics.
Have you called a government official today? Or maybe faxes are more your style. Check out ResistBot (ResistBot.io). I’m making our U.S. legislators my new pen pals. I invite you to do the same. Text 50409 and get started.
Greta Belanger deJong is the founder, editor and publisher of CATALYST.