I wrote this a few years ago about aggravating dogs......and a little added story.
A male racoon makes a good guard animal who'll keep everything away from the house. Well, there is the little thing of rutting season, when you or he will have to leave home.
25 years ago I had a 40 pound pet boar 'coon. He was house broken, used the toilet, and didn't mind taking a bath. He had his own bedroom, no kidding. I had three yard dogs and a cat at the time. He hated them all.
My neighbor had two big black male labs that were always causing trouble. Killed a neighbor's cow and calf, a couple of dogs, and always into everyone's trashcans.
I get up early to read the morning paper. I was going out to get it one morning, but those labs wouldn't let me out of my house. Then they jumped on an old collie I had had for years and ripped her side open. I ran them off, took old Dusty to the vet and got her sewed up. Didn't say a word to the neighbor. It would have been a waste of good air.
Next morning I opened the backdoor and there those dogs are again, showing their teeth and growling at me. I closed the door, and went to wake up the 'coon. He hated being woke up early as much as my ex-wife did, so I carried him to the back by a hand full of meat and fur on the back of his shoulders, the only place you can hold one where he can't get you. I opened the back door and the labs went wild—they wanted that 'coon. The 'coon wanted them labs. So I pitched him out amongst them labs. All hell broke loose. Half a second later one lab decided he was needed at home, and left the other to fight that 'coon alone. Two seconds later the second lab also decided to go home. There was just one little problem—the 'coon left with him, riding up on his back. I ran out into the street to watch. I could see the 'coon had him around the neck with his front paws, chewing on his ears and jerking his head back as he did. At the same time, he was kicking big puffs of black hair off the lab's back with his hind paws. It looked like a flooded car going up the street. The 'coon fell off when the dog turned into the neighbor's drive, and came home where I fed him his favorite food, Oreo cookies.
That afternoon I was in the yard when the neighbor turned up the street with his dog in the back of his pickup. The dog was sitting up in the box with 2 big balls of gauze on his head and stitches on his back looking like a map of the national rail system.
The neighbor stopped and started ranting, "Look what somebody's dog has done to my dog! I'm going to kill that dog when I find out who did it". Then he gave me the scoop on the dog's injuries, "His ears were torn up so bad that the only thing the vet could do was trim them off even with his head. And he has over a hundred stitches in his back. Somebody is going to pay!" I told him the truth, "I don't know anybody around here with a dog bad enough to do all that damage."
Those dogs never came near my place again. They would go a half mile out of their way to avoid going by here.
....and then there was this time the mother-in-law came to visit.
As I stated before, the 'coon was house broken, and used the toilet. He also used it for recreational purposes when the water was clean. He just loved to perch on the rim with his hind feet and wash things in the water with his front feet. Many's the time I've gone in there to find he had washed up a whole roll of toilet paper. He didn't like anyone using his toilet, not even the wife and me. You had to remember to close the door securely when you used the bathroom.
The in-laws came to visit, first visit since we had gotten the 'coon. I could tell the 'coon had taken an instant dislike to my mother-in-law, so I captured him and was proceeding to put him outside in his cage when the wife stopped me. She says, "oh, he'll get used to them being here. You just need to give him a few minutes." Mother-in-law chimes in, "Yeah, you should listen to your wife." OK, I did listen to the two of them, and even though I knew better, I put the 'coon down anyway.
After a long trip, the in-laws wanted a drink and a cup of coffee. While serving the drinks, the 'coon checked out my father-in-law. He was OK. The 'coon stayed under furniture and kept a watchful eye on the mother-in-law during this time. The 'coon finally decided to retire to the safety of his room.
Quite naturally after the long drive and beverages, mother-in-law had to use the facilities. The wife gave her directions, and the last words out of my wife's mouth were, "be sure to close the door good!" A few seconds later I heard the 'coon grunt like a pig, and knew right off what was about to happen. I had already jumped out of my chair when we all heard the blood curdling scream from my mother-in-law.
I, of course reached the bathroom first—I had a head start, remember. I already knew what was happening before I saw it. A sight to behold! The 'coon had my mother-in-law's big toe in his mouth and her pants leg with both front paws. He was trying to drag her off his most prized possession, the toilet.
Now ya'll take a minute and picture this. Three people rush to the rescue. There's now four grown people and an outraged 'coon packed into a small bathroom. One is an older woman sitting on a toilet with a 40 pound 'coon chewing on her big toe. She's screaming to high heaven and trying desperately to save what little modesty she has left. The second person in there is the young son-in-law-husband down on the floor wrestling with the 'coon, and having the dangdest time trying not to laugh. The third person in line is the daughter, wife of the son-in-law who by now has a very angry 'coon by the scuff of the neck. The wife-daughter has grabbed husband-son-in-law by the hair of his head and is screaming at him to "do something!!!!" The fourth person in there is a retired military officer father-in-law-father and concerned husband of the first party. He's shouting out enough orders to keep a whole division busy. With all this screaming and stuff going on, the 'coon gets even more agitated, and turns on his only friend in the world, me. He turns loose of the mother-in-law and bites me. This gives me, still down on my hands and knees with the 'coon firmly holding my finger in his mouth, a chance to back out of the bathroom between legs of the others.
You can about guess the rest of the story. 'Coon went into his cage, mother-in-law went to ER, and I went to the dog house. Because, after all, it was all my fault.
BTW The 'coon got a whole bunch of Oreo's for this one....LOL...."Good boy Rascal".
