Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing.
One thing for sure, Had a poll been taken of my EastWing friends before the fight, Mr. Bentley would not have gone to the Coon War and I’d still be trying to negotiate a deal to keep the raccoon from eating the deck cats food.
Now before I say anything else, Mr. Bentley is well. He did not suffer and lasting effects of the Coon War. I must say, I never dreamed so many friends cared so much about Mr. Bentley. Last Week every single email had Mr. Bentley included in the discussion. Even the one who gave me a bunch of crap for something I could not ever figure out what they were talking about. Even that one had kind words for the Big Puppy.
One of the interesting things about telling a real life story is, there are events that occurred prior to the start of the story, and events continued after the story ended. Such was the case of Mr. Bentley and big coon. Much the same way as when two or even three people observe the same set of events and each write the story of such things. The stories all come out different. Same events, different stories.
One of the more widely read set of stories of this type of storytelling can be found in the first three books of the New Testament, Mathew, Mark, and Luke. Reading such, one could ask if they were all at the same party. They were. Then if you read the Books of Mathew Mark and Luke again, and again, you start to realize, yes it is the same story, just seen from different sets of eyes.
So with all the bad mouthing I got for putting Mr. Bentley in harm’s way, I’m reverting to a technique from an old and dear friend of mine, Paul Harvey, “And now for the rest of the story.”
The Big Raccoon did not just wonder upon the north deck on dark night and was attacked by the Homeland Security Officer. The Big Coon had molested the cats and eaten the cat food almost every night for two weeks. Several attempts to persuade the big fellow to abandon his stealing ways and find other nocturnal entertainment were not met with success.
Pitching water on the coon had no adverse effect. Poking said coon with a broomstick, likewise. The Big Coon even became accustom to my voice. At first, he’d run when I spoke, but soon after, he’d just look up at me standing in the north deck doorway, kinda grin and return to his late night supper.
All the while I was making efforts to rid the EastWing of said coon, Mr. Bentley, every night, standing by my side wanted to apply his special technique of Coon Control. Only after all my efforts were unsuccessful, it was then, and only then, did I decide to give Mr. Bentley a chance to demonstrate his Raccoon Eradication skills. The skills of the President of Pit Bull Inc. were impressive.
After the night battle, and the injured gladiator received proper medical attention, me and Mr. Bentley slept holding hands. The following morning we surveyed the battlefield. What we found in the daylight was way more impressive than what I thought the opponent would look like in the sunshine. Mr. Bentley took one look at the demolished gladiator, turned and walked back to the EastWing.
I thought the raccoon was a big one in the nightlight. In the sunshine it was the largest raccoon I’d ever seen. In fact, so big I decided to get the bathroom scale and weigh the big coon for the record. The thing was so large it would not all fit on the bathroom scale, so I weighed myself, picked up the coon, and done the math. 34 lbs. Not being a hunter, I had no idea if this was a normal adult raccoon, small one, or what. Asking my brother-in-law, Dexter Mullins, I found out that 34 lbs is a monster of a coon.
It turned out that Mr. Bentley had taken on the “Godzilla of the Raccoon World”. What amazed me, when I realized the size and weight of this trespasser of the EastWing, he was within 2 lbs of being half the size of Mr. Bentley. What my brother-in-law told me about big coons was that they can easily kill dogs twice their size if they are able to get the fight into water. The coon will drown the dog ever time.
“And now you know the rest of the story” Thanks Paul Harvey.
It was with that bit of information that Mr. Bentley and I had a long talk on how to handle raccoons when they enter into the kill zone as established by Pit Bull Inc. From now on, all intruders with ring tails will be dealt with using the little hand gun with the magic red light.
That little gun is so cool, you don’t even have to be a cowboy to know how to shoot that pistol. It’s the red dot thing that makes me a marksman. Ya don’t even have to aim or anything, just watch the little red dot. Where goes the red dot, so goes the bullet when ya squeeze. That little gun is just so cool.
Stay safe in Afghanistan.
From The EastWing, Bentley’s Final War
I Wish You Well,