How often in life does one get to write out a title like that? Or get pooped on by a raccoon? Rarely. So how can I not blog about it?
My crazy friend, (Most of them are, so she won't be offended should she happen to wander by and see that I have referred to her as crazy. She'll never know I'm even talking about her. Ha. Ha. And actually, craziness is pretty much a requirement to be my friend.) is a animal rescuer who definitely puts her money where her mouth is, or her curtains in the line of fire, or her sleep patterns on hold.... she just got three baby raccoons to "nurse" until they are old enough to brave the great outdoors all by themselves. The lady who contacted her currently is bottle feeding 30...been a rough year for raccoon mamas.
& and I had to go see this triple raccoon threat on Saturday. Oh my. They are cute.
The trio didn't care for & and I exactly. Oh, there were no "Does somebody need a hug? moments but some chatters of complaint when we held them. One climbed up over &'s back and down an arm and onto a vanity. And the one I held finally cuddled in a bit then moved along my chest. Turns out she was pooping on me. Yeah. Only one who got pooped on during this little visit. All across the chest, down an arm and on my hand.
At least it was baby poop, I told myself, I've had lots of experience with baby poop.
Going to have to go back and visit them a few more times before they are ready to be released.
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