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Not a Raccoon Hunt

The stories that Daddy told are many, but this one my mama used to tell about Daddy – he’s not very proud of this one adventure I think.

The men went out coon hunting one night. Their wives were at Grandma’s house keeping each other company, working jigsaw puzzles or whatever, while the men went out to do their thing.  The women (Hazel, Betty, Nell, and Marie) liked each other, and they were bonded by being married to the hard-headed knuckleheads who were the Bulloch brothers. Plus they had a common enemy – Grandma. None of the girls were good enough in Grandma’s opinion for her handsome, brilliant wonderful sons.

Sometimes, the men would climb up trees to get the scared raccoons. Ben, Ray and Andy were young and spry, so they usually did the climbing. This night, they came home pretty late, and Mama said they smelled them coming up the driveway. 

The first one came in – Buddy – Buddy was too big to climb far up a tree, but Buddy smelled like a skunk – it was bad – next came Andy – he had apparently made his way partially up the tree after the others – and after the raccoon.  He reeked of skunk – then came Daddy – he was small of stature and not about to be the last one to the raccoon, but he almost passed out himself from the smell. 

But it was Uncle Ray won the race up the tree – or lost – its hard to say – because it was his hand on the tail of the raccoon. Except the tail was not striped, but solid black with one white stripe which he noticed a little too late.  They smelled worse by their order up the tree – Ray never even made it into the house.  The women sent them back outside and made them all strip.  Then they started gathering lye soap, which they all knew wouldn’t do any good, then tomato juice (enough to bathe four grown men). They probably went through everyone’s root cellar supply of tomatoes that night.

© 2019 Susan Bulloch

Categories: Dad's Stories


I write. I fix computers. I feed cats.

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