Last night I saved two moths and what looked like a mosquito. I felt sorry for the mosquito. I captured him with a jar. I was going to leave him there to die, but I soon realized that his presence was going to affect my sleep so I let him go. The moths were nice looking. Blue in color. I’m not sure how they got into my cabin or when, but they did. They’re mysterious little creatures. Strange looking up close.
Later in the evening I heard rustling outside. A critter was moving among the leaves. He was looking for bugs I presumed. A short time later the critter was walking quietly on my roof. He came down from the roof and boldly scratched at my French doors. I peeled back the curtains and shined a light on him. It was a cute looking raccoon. He had a look of innocence on his face, but I knew better, there was nothing innocent about him. He tried to run his paws underneath my door, but the crack was too narrow. I let him be. I went back to my computer. It was two in the morning, quiet, except for him. The raccoon was having a great time in the leaves. He was thrusting about playfully. Scratching, digging. He was ruining my peace. I finally said something to him. The rustling had reached the state of obnoxious.
I opened my door and pointed my flashlight at him. He looked up innocent.
“Hey, hey, hey, keep it down over there!”
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