Alright, so maybe my dramatic side is kicking in just a little. But seriously. With the exception of the one fabulous week I spent with Boyfriend, Boyfriend's Mom, and Boyfriend's Grandma at the beach, this has been one long summer of blahhhhhh.
Speaking of the beach with Boyfriend, let me tell you a story about raccoons.
So, the house we stayed at was on a beautiful beach called Cape San Blas. There was barely anyone there, the water was clear and gorgeous, and the house was awesome. Here's the first thing I saw when we pulled up.
Anyway, maybe the third day we were there, I was lying in bed playing Pokemon on Boyfriend's DS (He mistakenly introduced me to the utter joy that is Pokemon and I have now stolen said DS and have no intention of giving it back anytime soon) and he was playing some game on his PS3 (Or he may have been watching My Little Pony. I'm not sure.) when he was called out of the room by his mom and grandma. I ignored what was going on because I was busy kicking butt with my level 55 Blaziken. I vaguely caught the words "animal control" coming up from the bottom floor of the house, but like I said, I was busy kicking some gym leader's sorry behind.
Some time later, I went outside to go take a walk on the beach. On my way, I noticed a cage right beside the stairs leading down to the sand. And in the cage was a raccoon. It was all curled up in the corner of the cage and looked very sad. I went back upstairs where Boyfriend was still playing on his PS3 (Or watching My Little Pony. Like I said, it's hard to distinguish with him sometimes and I never really pay attention to what he's doing unless it involves me) and said, "There's a RACCOON downstairs." Boyfriend's response- "Yeah?" I could tell I wasn't gonna get a good conversation out of him because he was engrossed with his game or his ponies or whatever the heck it was he was doing. So I went back downstairs, got a piece of bread from the kitchen, and tossed it to the poor raccoon on my way to the beach.
I had managed to forget all about the poor animal, until later that day when Boyfriend and I got back from going out for lunch. Unfortunately for us, Boyfriend's Mom and Boyfriend's Grandma had the keys to the house and they were out looking at the state park that was down the road. Also unfortunately for us, it was raining. Hard. So, we hung around in the little parking area under the stairs for a little while when I suddenly remembered the raccoon. I ran to where it's cage was, and saw something like this-
Or, at least, that's what I thought it looked like. The poor thing was all huddled in the corner of the cage. It looked very sad, very pathetic, very soaked by the cold rain, and very much like a Disney animal from Bambi or something that someone had trapped and tortured. I ran back to Boyfriend.
Me- "It's all cold. And wet. And in the RAIN."
Boyfriend- "You are NOT letting that thing go. It might turn on you and attack you as soon as it gets out of that cage. Don't touch it."
Me- "No it won't!!! It will be grateful I saved it and run away!"
Boyfriend-"No. You aren't letting it out."
At this point, I decided Boyfriend has a heart of stone when it comes to poor trapped woodland animals, and I had to take matters into my own hands. I started to walk over to where the cage sat.
Boyfriend- "What do you think you're doing?"
Me- "If you won't let me set it free, I'm at LEAST going to push the cage out of the rain."
I approached the cage and leaned down to put my hands on it. All of a sudden, the pathetic adorable Disney animal went from this-
It jumped at me big big scary claws that it had cleverly disguised as cute fluffy paws. I screamed like a five year old girl, guys. No lie. And then, I became indignant at the fact that I was trying to rescue this animal from the rain and it was rewarding me with scaring the ever-loving CRAP out of me.
It became a back-and forth act of me gingerly trying to pull the cage out of the rain, and the raccoon trying to murder me with its deceptively lethal teeth and claws. At this point, I became so fed up with the entire situation and the raccoon not appreciating my efforts, I began to kick the cage instead of pull it with my hands. Boyfriend was laughing the whole time, which I suppose is understandable, because if someone had happened to walk by, they would have seen a soaking wet teenage girl kicking a caged raccoon, who was consequently hissing and trying to bite and claw her through the cage, while she yells at it, "I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU!!! STOP ATTEMPTING TO HURT ME!!! STOP IT!!! I'M TRYING TO GET YOU OUT OF THE RAIN, STUPID!!!!!"
Eventually, I kicked the cage far enough under the awning so that the rain wasn't directly hitting the cage. However, there was still rain falling through the cracks of the deck up above, so I did the obvious thing. I retrieved a boogie board from the nearby closet or beach toys, and leaned it on the front of the cage. I then took the welcome mat from the side door to the house and laid it on top of the cage (All while the raccoon was still trying to make a meal out of my fingers), thus creating a little hut-like structure that would effectively keep out the rain. Or so I thought.
Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I went to where Boyfriend was sitting at the front door (I guess he had gotten tired of watching me kick the cage) and sat with him. We sat talking for a minute or two, when I heard a scratching sound and then a thud from back where the cage was. I went to look, and the stupid thing had reached through the cage with it's paw and knocked the boogie board over. I put it back up against the cage. He knocked it over again. I put it back. He reached out and pushed it over. I replaced it one more time, and he knocked it down yet again.
I had had enough. I yelled, "FINE!!!!!! STAY IN THE STUPID RAIN!! I DON'T EVEN CARE!!!!" And stomped back over to where Boyfriend was. He had the good sense not to laugh at me.A wise decision. I would have taken that caged raccoon and thrown it at his head.
Anyway, the next day I went out to tell the raccoon I was sorry for yelling at it and to give it some food, but the cage was open and the raccoon was inexplicably gone. I assume someone took pity on it and let it go.
I'll bet whoever it was doesn't have a face anymore. This is one of those times when I'm really glad I listened to Boyfriend. If the thing tried to eat my fingers while I was merely trying to get it out of the rain, I can't imagine what would have happened if I had tried to free it.
So, I guess the moral of the story here is, don't try to save caged raccoons from the rain, because you'll end up being lucky to have all your fingers by the end of it, your good hair day will get ruined by the stupid rain, and your boyfriend will think you're some psychotic raccoon activist.