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Saving Craig

As soon as I walked out of my bedroom yesterday morning, Jamie greeted me by telling me we had lost a chicken overnight. I was fearful we had lost my favorite chicken Craig; fortunately, Craig was safe, but sadly we lost our Rhode Island red, Peg. I was sad to lose Peg but grateful Craig was safe.





That afternoon Jamie was in the bonus room on a conference call, and I was in the school room working when I heard the dogs, stuck on the back porch, go ballistic. I rushed out of the room to see what was wrong. As I was getting ready to go down the stairs, I glanced out of a window, and I SAW IT. A fat raccoon was halfway across my front yard and had Craig in its stupid mouth. My brain instantly shut off, and I went into action. I must have yelled/screamed/shrieked, “IT HAS CRAIG!” I flew down the stairs, out the door, and sprinted across the yard in about 5 seconds.


I was chasing down this raccoon. The raccoon and I raced toward the front four acres, and thankfully the raccoon dropped Craig before it went into the wood area. Craig lay there not moving, so I positioned myself between the chicken and raccoon, protecting Craig. Unfortunately, the raccoon did not want to leave without it, so it stood a few feet from me behind a tree staring at me. I had nothing with me, so I started throwing sticks at the raccoon as it slowly started approaching me. One step at a time with his eyes locked on mine. There was no freaking way I was letting him take Craig. I was ready to fight it. I have never fought a raccoon before (obviously), but I was freaking ready.


As the raccoon took one step closer to his soon-to-be slap down, Jamie stepped out of the house and yelled at me. “Hey, I am on a conference call; what’s going on?” “COME GET CRAIG!”. Boom, a second late, Jamie was at my side. I felt good. Jamie was here, and we were about to Wonder Twin Powers Activate all over this raccoon’s ass.






Jamie yelled to me, “Go get a gun and shoot the raccoon.” This request presented me with a dilemma. I didn’t was to leave Jamie alone with Craig and the advancing raccoon. But I had no option. I made that 100-meter sprint up my lawn again, ran inside, and grabbed the rifle. Jamie was there waiting for me when I stepped out on the porch. He brought Craig with him, and my beloved chicken was lying on the porch. I handed Jamie the rifle, BOOM. As soon as the gun shot, Craig jumped up and ran to the other side of our porch! SHE WAS ALIVE! (No, do not sound like Dr. Frankenstein when you read that, this is serious.) Thank God Jamie was a good shot and did not miss the raccoon.






Jamie was disposing of the raccoon that evening, and he stopped and asked if I wanted to make a hat out of it. For the second time that day, my brain shut off. Hell yeah. I want that raccoon’s tail. I’ll hang from my mirror in my Lexus…my brain flipped back on. What the hell is wrong with me? No, I do not want a raccoon hat or its tail for a car accessory. Now, just between you and me, I think Jamie was serious about the raccoon hat. He may deny it, but I think he would have tried to make a hat if I had agreed.

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