Living in the woods of Hebron means sharing your yard with a variety of neighbors including deer, turkey, fox, coyote and countless other forms of wildlife. It’s not exactly Yellowstone Park but it’s a good primer.
Since moving here about 25 years ago, one of our more intrusive guests have been raccoon. They will pull down your bird feeders, rifle through your garbage pails and even swipe pumpkins off your front porch.
Living out this way also means that you see your fair share of roadkill. Squirrels, possums, skunks seem to be the most frequent victims. On occasion, I will see a raccoon that has been snuffed out by a car and wonder, “Is that the raccoon that ripped the plants out of my garden?” I never rejoice in their demise but I don’t lose any sleep either.
Yesterday, I was driving home and could see something dead on the road ahead. When I approached, I saw that it was not just one raccoon but two of them. Side-by-side.
For some reason, this made me sad. I didn’t think of them as my backyard scavengers but as mates that had perished alongside each other. Possibly one checking on the fate of their partner before being struck themselves.
Somehow, one raccoon was simply a perished pest but two raccoons was the tragic end of a partnership.