Down in south Texas a lady fed a bunch of coons every evening. I went with her to watch. A gang of about 20 raccoons was waiting for her in a creek bed. When we got there the raccoons all stood up on their hind legs and started walking toward us. They looked like weird little space aliens. It was absolutely creepy! I made a sudden excuse and bolted out of there.
Down in south Texas a lady fed a bunch of coons every evening. I went with her to watch. A gang of about 20 raccoons was waiting for her in a creek bed. When we got there the raccoons all stood up on their hind legs and started walking toward us. They looked like weird little space aliens. It was absolutely creepy! I made a sudden excuse and bolted out of there. My mother used to feed the damned things in her back yard, but she finally gave it up when the crowd grew too large and demanding. If she was late putting out the chow, they'd hang on her wrought iron security gate by the back door, shaking and rattling it to get her attention. They'd even try to turn the damned doorknob.
I have no use for raccoons, apart from funny story material for the homespun southern humorists.
"Knock him out, John!"