Thirteen makes a baker's dozen

Hello, all! We've recently gone into a rather bizarre boarding and tour enterprise. Pete's chicken coop sits on the top of the hill not far from where he buried our bunker in the ground. Below that is a semi-cleared sloping woody spot heading down into the baygall. From time to time, coons bother the chickens or their eggs.

Not too long ago, Pete and Bug noticed dear tracks near the wood line. So when they'd go to feed the chickens, they'd throw a handful of corn or two out in hopes of getting a "pet" deer that would come by regularly to eat and they could enjoy watching it. But Pete soon found by the tracks that varmints were eating his gift to the deer, not the deer.

So he started setting a live trap out, baited with corn. And each day he finds a coon in it. Different sizes and ages. Latest count is at twelve! That arises a whole new question of what to do with the scared, angry things. Contrary to opinion, all country rednecks do not eat coon. Pete could kill them, skin them and sell them. But that's just more work that would have to be done even on a bad day when you didn't feel up to it. And since he's not catching them in the act of disturbing eggs in the chicken coop, he can't bring himself to just blow them away and discard them.

That leaves him but one option, relocate them. Each day he brings the trap up the hill. The coon is given a bite of corn and a drink of water in their cozy accommodations. Then Pete or Bubba would load the trap in the back of the first truck headed away from here and release the perturbed creature in a new locale. Problems arose in that Pete rarely leaves the farm. And Bubba encountered his own problems. He'd take coons for rides to the feed store and back. Out on dates. And even into town to eat at Casa Ole. Then bring them straight back home.

Pete couldn't see tying up the trap long enough for these excursions. So, he began a new regime of he and Bug loading them up every evening after chores and driving them down the bottom of the hill and releasing them there. Bug's little pet, Blackie, rode along for the adventure and Pete soon found Blackie loved "escorting" the coons into their new tree-top accommodation. Sometimes they'd object to the first one she selected for them and come down. After some discussion, she'd direct them to another and stand watch until she felt sure they were settled.

Number twelve enjoyed a fire with us last night. He's basked in the sun today. Probably get his trip down the hill this evening. Good thing, too, as I am sure number thirteen wonders when he'll get to step into that box cage and begin his all expense paid tour.

On a more personal note;

• I've filed and my refund is in my hand!
• Bug's 100 score on Reading & Writing TAKS qualifies her for Duke TIP!
• I've been test driving the Beta AOL 9.5 with tabbed browsing and love it!
• Betty turned me on to a great site/way to support our troops: Soldiers' Angels.

God bless and keep you,

Barbara