The Racoon

The following story is fictional and does not depict any actual person or event.

Okay, maybe I am too embarrassed to admit that this indeed did happen and my husband is borderline crazy. Judge for yourself.

It was a Saturday night and we were driving home from having dinner with friends. We had met at the Old Town Mexican Cafe and unfortunately ingested way too much food. Knowing my propensity for “stomach problems”, my husband was moving quickly through traffic to get me home as soon as possible.

We were less than a mile from the bathroom when I noticed the car in front of us suddenly swerve as to avoid something in the road. I soon saw what was causing the calamity. A rather large raccoon had obviously been hit and was flopping around in the turn lane. Though I only saw it for a minute, I will admit it was a sad sight.

Unfortunately my husband saw the same painful look in Rocky’s eye and slammed on the brakes. In doing so, he spun the car so it faced the curb and the passenger side was in the direct path of oncoming traffic. Meaning I was in the direct path of oncoming traffic.

“Oh my god, that raccoon has been hit!” he screamed. “We have to help him!”

“Can we move the car off the road first?” I screamed back.

“No Laura, we can’t!! You move the f*cking car!”

And with that, he jumped out into traffic and ran to be by Rocky’s side.

“You stupid Mother---!” The profanities came quickly as I crawled over the gear shift (remember, I am 6 foot tall) and moved the car to the side of the road. Thankfully oncoming traffic had slowed enough for me to get to safety.

My husband, on the other hand, was crouching by the animal in the middle of the road. He kept looking over at me as if asking what he should do. He would look up with this helpless expression and then slowly stroke Rocky’s fur. Not in any mood to help at this point, I continued to shout creative and masterful expletives from the car. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the windows were rolled up so he heard none of it.

I was about to get out of the car and ask what the hell he was going to do with Rocky when I heard the sound of screeching tires. I looked up in time to see a pickup truck slam into the back of a car that had slowed to see why a crazy a man was in the middle of the street (I assume). The car was catapulted about a block before coming to rest on the shoulder. The pickup truck sped off leaving the accident in his wake.

So let’s recap, shall we? It is Saturday night, my husband is in the middle of a busy road with a now DEAD f*cking raccoon, and there has been a hit and run. Oh and did I mention that a Mexican Hat Dance was going on in my digestive system?

The cops were on the scene rather quickly. Come to find out the guy in the car had minor injuries and the paramedics had to be called. The traffic cop couldn’t understand why anyone would rush into the street to comfort a dead raccoon (my husband explained that the animal wasn’t dead when we arrived on ‘the scene’). And all the while my wonderful husband didn’t realize why I was mad or why I thought he caused the accident. Once we got home I made my feelings known, after I used the bathroom of course.

For the sake of our marriage, we no longer speak of this night. And if any of you see my husband and remember this tale, I ask you to do the same.