If you don't watch TV, what do you do? I was kind of stumped. I don't know, really. Work, drive, sleep too much, write this stuff sometimes, read a little, see my son. That's about it.
This morning, I noticed the heavy cement bowl of the bird bath had been knocked off its pedestal. Maybe the bear came through again. Or those demon-screamer raccoons. When I got home this evening, I went back there to fix it.
Something was moving underneath. A mammal. I wasn't sure if it was sheltering under there or if the bowl had toppled over onto it. I got a long pry bar out of the basement and lifted the edge. A juvenile raccoon trying to but unable to move its limbs or head. Eyes were blinking and glistening. It's back must have been broken. I lifted the bowl completely off of it to give it room to flee. Wild things are freaking wild, so I thought maybe it'll recover with its circulation returning. I debated ending its suffering with a downward strike of the heavy bar for a moment. I talked to it. Give it a little time, I thought, and went back in the house. It died on its own a few minutes later.
Teenagers raising a little hell on a hot summer night. Bet his parents are worried sick.
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