In seconds another gremlin is making mayhem in the bedroom. By the time you reach the doorway, the bedroom is in chaos. Socks and gloves tangle awkwardly on the bed, their fingers and toes all jumbled. A hot-water-bottle lies crumpled on the rug, its stopper rolling in dizzy circles. Beneath a chest of drawers a rubber mouse squeaks in alarm, its bell tinkling. A hairbrush teeters on the edge of the dresser, falls off, and thuds on the floor. The curtains sway unnaturally from side to side, a jagged tear appearing suddenly in the fabric. In a high corner of the ceiling a visiting spider, seeing the supernatural at work, scurries out of the window in fright. Then in a flash the roll of paper towels left by the litterbox for emergencies unrolls itself and a swath of paper flies around the floor wrapping itself around bedlegs and briefcases, shoes and slippers. Thumps and bumps emanate from the dark shadows under the bed. Then all is quiet. An amorphous lump ascends the bed under the sheets and heads for the pillows. As peace descends you walk in, to see little Higgins Honeybear lying comfortably between the pillows cheerfully licking his paws and staring at you in surprise, his innocent eyes giving the lie to the destruction all around. "Who me?" he seems to be saying. "Would I do a thing like that?" rHaunting episodes of this sort are almost enough to make a serious nature lover give up gin and tonic altogether.
Sunday 24 June. I squeezed two more drops of wonderdrug down Higgins' throat today. He should be fine now. He ate voraciously, without any Esbilac as I had run out of it. I cooked barbequed chicken on the grill again tonight and Higgins feasted on roast breast and skin (with ginger). He doused them in his waterbowl enthusiastically. He also ate a boiled egg (half at each meal), apple, macaroni and cheese, blueberries, and marshmallows. He chomped down some cherries which had fallen onto the next-door neighbour's back patio from her overloaded cherry tree. His feces contain cherry pits, evidently he swallows the entire cherry and the pits pass through. Higgins genitals are developing. Several times during the past week he has squished his body down on a pile of fabric, such as a pair of underpants ora sock or glove, and wiggled around on his penis. The os penis, the baculum, is well developed and can be felt with one's finger. The scrotum is larger than before, a clear ridge under the fur. He has spent more time than previously grooming his genitals this last few days. I examined him to see if some parasite or infection were causing irritation, but found none. He also showed more interest than previously in my genitals, making sudden sniffing forays between my legs as I lay on my bed. Some hormone must have turned on in his brain.cjZTonight he is prancing about in our cherry tree. On one of the lower branches is a wren house, replete with Mom and Dad Wren and babies. I hope his love of bird meat doesn't lead him to take advantage of this cozy menage. This is the first year in six years that Carolina wrens have nested here. The blizzard winter of '77-78 wiped them out.'XGEvery night when he goes off adventuring I worry that he won't come back. I think of all the disasters that could befall him, from fatal encounters with big dogs to violent and grotesque crunches under cars. When I find him each morning I sigh with relief. He comes back for the food I guess. I have become so fond of him.jAt about 12.45 tonight I was sitting in bed reading a fascinating article in Scientific American about the life cycle of the Douglas fir beetle, when I heard through the open window Higgins' distinctive yip-whine, which he gives when frightened or when I come home after some hours absence, a sort of "Oh Mother!" response. I let him in the back door and gave him a cuddle and a marshmallow. He seemed content, so I took him to his cage. There in the glow of the lamp on the street I saw a mother raccoon, the same one that feeds on the back porch, and four baby 'coons all clustered under the blue spruce tree. MaO I purred and trilled at them while the babies milled around. Higgins climbed the ash tree across the street and watched them intently. After a few moments they melted into the darkness at the side of the house. I heard the scrambling of claws going up the wild cherry tree beside the chimney. Moments later I peered out the kitchen window and saw Momma 'Coon dousing chow on the back porch..I returned to the front porch and purred at Higgins, who was climbing the sidelimbs of the ash tree and listening to scurrying sounds emanating from the side of the house. A few moments later the unmistakable sounds of feet padding, twigs breaking, and dry leaves crackling proceeded in orderly fashion from the side of the house, along the 'coon path to the street, over the woodlot, and beyond towards the ravine. Higgins continued to watch with interest, then resumed his climbing. \K Are these his cousins? It is unlikely that these raccoons are immediate relations. He was found in a section of the ravine to the northwest of the house. This female raccoon and her young 'uns came from the southeast. All the same, the likelihood of their being related by common ancestors in the previous generation is high.?Around 1.45 a.m. I again heard the yip-whine from Higgins penetrating the fog of my dreams. I found him on top of his cage, quite agitated. He came in the house and ate a prodigious quantity of chicken, boiled egg, and blueberries. This surprised me, as he had eaten a ton of chicken only 2 1/2 hours before. It occurs to me that he may often try to communicate with me at night, but it's been so hot and humid lately that I've had the windows closed and the air conditioner on, so I would not have heard him. This is the first time since I began letting him wander at night that it's been cool enough to shut off the air conditioning and leave the windows open. He played on my bed for a while before I put him out again.
Monday 25 June. This morning a horrendous explosion ripped me out of dreamland -- a great BANG as though a bomb had landed in the back alley. I shot out of bed like a bat out of hell and raced out front to see if Higgins was OK. He was placidly tearing small dead twigs off a blue spruce branch as though nothing had happened. By the time my nerves had recovered I remembered that it's the Glorious Fourth next week. That bomb did sound a lot like a Roman Candle. Some neighbourhood kid just practicing, no doubt.Higgins had been active most of the night, particularly at tearing window screens and scratching at the back door. I don't remember how many times I got up to see what his problem was. Mostly he wanted to check on the roast chicken situation in the kitchen. By 11 p.m. he has now eaten two entire large chicken breasts in 1 1/2 days, plus his usual boiled egg (1 per day), buttered macaroni with Parmesan cheese, blueberries, marshmallows, diced beef catfood, and chopped apple. He has had a voracious appetite lately, normal bowel movements, and is extremely energetic..GB1Last night's furious activity seemed to tire him some; he spent the whole day sleeping like an angel on my bed, which he hasn't done for a couple of weeks. This reminded me of his early days, when as an infant he slept away the days as a little purring lump under the bedclothes. Now he's a large lump..7This evening I tried to make plaster casts of his tracks. I was concerned that the plaster would stick to his paws, so I put corn oil on them. This didn't work because he liked the taste of the oil so much he licked it all off. I figured plain water might do. Gently I placed him on the tray of plaster, pressing down on his back so that his feet would make deep impressions. No such luck. He skittered about, slipping and sliding on the plaster until the tracks were blurred and muddled. I had thought Higgins would just walk across the plaster leaving a clear trail. Nice and easy. But I reckoned without raccoon curiosity. He pawed up the plaster with his front paws and dug in it. When I held his body still, he paddled away with his legs. I tried pressing down on each foot, while he paddled away with the others. The resulting tray of plaster looked as if a dozen raccoons had been re-enacting the battle of Valley Forge on it.K I washed plaster off Higgins, out of my hair and clothes, off the patio, the patio table, the kitchen table, the kitchen floor, and the kitchen countertops. Somehow I don't think I've quite got the hang of it yet. I've seen cleaner tracks in the mud along the 'coon path beside the house after a good rain. Maybe I'll try mud casts tomorrow. I'm beginning to think those nice neat casts you buy from biological supply houses are made from dead animals. How else would you get a raccoon to stand still to make a cast? About 11.45 p.m. Higgins heard a noise from the back porch as he was eating his supper. He descended from the countertop to investigate. The large female raccoon that we've seen for some weeks was busy dousing chow. With her was one of her four youngsters. Seeing them up close under the porchlight, I realize that this young one is smaller than Higgins, about three weeks younger. The mother paid little attention to Higgins, who slowly descended the steps and walked to within two feet of her. The baby, who was not eating, was afraid of Higgins. It lowered its head and snuffled in submission. Higgins was a litle taken aback, and just watched the pair as they ambled out into the yard. Then he walked to the chowbowl, picked up a piece of chow, and doused it. He stood on the side of the waterbowl and repeated the actions of the female exactly as he had done once before. He also sniffed around a lot. He normally douses chicken and various other items fairly naturally, but rarely takes much interest in dogchow.
Tuesday 26 June I had an early appointment this morning, so Higgins had a rushed breakfast of the usual mixture and stayed behind in the house, still eating, when I left. On my return I saw that he'd been having a whale of a time. He'd finally mastered the leap up onto the kitchen table after days of trying, and had scattered pens, pencils, erasers, mail, magazines, and cigarette butts all over the table and the floor. '2 In the dining room he had pawed and chewed the candles on the table, leaving a shower of waxy slivers scattered all over that floor. But the back bedroom was the piece de resistance. Somehow in my hurry I had left the closet door open. How could I have been so foolish? I had deliberately been keeping that door closed all the time to prevent him from tearing my clothes to pieces by climbing on them. So the inside of the closet was a whole new world of interestingly-textured objects for him to investigate. He had done a thorough job.CLambswool slippers, leather sandals, and canvas sneakers lay in muddled profusion among pillows scattered on the bed. Shoes, boots, and belts adorned every corner of the floor. Lampshades on the dresser leaned rakishly askance. The bedlinens had been pulled and tugged in a dozen directions. The books, magazines, and hot water bottle were all dragged out of the bedside table, and -- the coup de grace -- my pen and notes were in his litterbox.Since the wonderdrug fixed his bowels, Higgins seems to be a tad more energetic than before. However, he slept until dark in his ideal log in the cage. As is now usual, he ate heartily this p.m., going for the chicken first, boiled egg second, macaroni and cheese third, apple and blueberries last. He seems to be a fairly carnivorous 'coon really. He ate a spider again this evening, which he caught on the porch. The raccoon I had last year was almost entirely vegetarian, preferring fruits, especially blueberries, to meat.After supper we played "monkey on a branch" as usual, then explored the yard for a while as we always do. I shall miss these late-night runabouts when he leaves on Friday to take up permanent residence at XXXX Nature Preserve.
Wednesday 27 June. Higgins ate the usual mixture a.m. and p.m., and had a normal bowel movement. He drank some of my ovaltine. I have not given him Esbilac in a couple of days as I couldn't get hold of any. He's been drinking water. He has learned how to knock on the door to be let in. He puts both front paws on the storm door and scratches like hell. He made enough noise at the back door this morning to wake me up.
Thursday 28 June. Higgins ate well of the usual mixture and had a normal bowel movement. His pelage now consists of black guard hairs on his back, white ones on his sides and limbs. His underfur is grayish beneath the body, cinnamon-brown to ginger between the black rings on his tail, grayish on his back and sides. White hairs cover the rim and inside of his ears, and a black triangular patch covers the base of the ears. His forehead is grizzled, and the black mask over his eyes has white above and below. A black line runs down the center of his face from above the mask to the end of the nose. His black skin is hairless below the nose to the mouth. The lower lip is black, with white fur below it over his throat. He has white whiskers with about three or four odd brown ones on the right side.h:'He still often sticks his snout into my mouth, sometimes prying my mouth open with his hands. He looks around inside to see what's there, paws at my tongue, and then licks my face. He is noticeably subdued in his playing this evening, preferring to cuddle up and sit on my shoulder than to wreak havoc around the house. Our "monkey on a branch" wrestling was gentler than usual. This may or may not be related to the fact that he got his vaccinations at the vet's this morning. He snoozed in the laundry 'chute after getting back from the vet's.
Watch this space intently for further developments
More meanderings ...