A few nights ago Grandma Flossie, Aunt Melissa, and I were all around Gram’s
dining room table playing a card game called “Hand and Foot.” We were so
enjoying the game,our popcorn, chocolate, and soda that we didn’t realize how
late it was getting. We finally decided to quit the fun and go to bed when Aunt
Missy yelled for a flash light saying that the dogs had gotten some sort of
critter. Oh my. The dogs had attacked a racoon and had injured it by using it
as their play toy. It definitely needed to be put down. Aunt Missy had the
shovel and asked if I could do it. I was quite sure that I could do it until I
saw how cute the racoon was. Tears filled my eyes and I just couldn’t. (Now, if
the racoon was attacking someone I could have done it, but even the I probably
would grab the person and run far far away.) We tried to figure out if there
were any men in the area who would be home and able to put the poor thing out
of it’s misery. No luck. I ran inside to grab a sweater and when I came back
out, there was Gram with the shovel taking care of business. We then proceded
to put the racoon in a bag, all the while Aunt Missy whined that she was going
to throw up. I also had to swallow to keep it all down. So Grandma Flossie was
the brave one. She really didn’t want to do it. She just felt bad for the poor
thing and knew that someone had to take care of it. We were all wide awake
after the escapade so we finished the night with another round of cards.

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