The past three evenings as I come home from work, I've been seeing the same chubby raccoon as I turn onto our road. He's always in the same spot, either crossing the road, sitting on the fence or peering out at me from the ditch through his cute bandit mask.
He makes me think of a story my Prampa used to tell me about a pet raccoon he had named Buddy. He said Buddy used to sit on his shoulder and he'd go everywhere with him. Prampa used to keep chewing gum in his overalls pocket and Buddy would reach down into the bib of his overalls and pull the gum out, unwrap it and stick it in his mouth. Prampa got the biggest kick out of it.
Now that I'm grown up and have had first-hand knowledge of how feisty this little buggers can be, I wonder how much of Prampa's story might have been a bit embellished. He's had 94 years of practice telling some humdinger stories. Do you suppose he might have been pulling my leg?
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