I�m sitting here watching an ear of corn. It�s not that I have nothing better to do. I could easily find better things to do. After all, I�d planned to bake muffins. But the only way my dishes are getting clean is if I watch this ear of corn. So I�m watching it.

The ear of corn is part of the latest battle between man and raccoon. In one form or another, the war has raged for years. Man, in the form of Mr. Philately, and Raccoon, if the form of whatever raccoon happens to be around at the moment, have been engaged in conflict almost since we moved in thirteen and a half years ago.

For years, Man would find new ways of securing trash cans and Raccoon would work and work until he had figured out how to undo the new system. Man once had the upper hand for a while with a double bungee cord system. Unfortunately, that system kept out not only Raccoon but Wife and Daughters as well. Ultimately, a bigger Raccoon came by and destroyed the garbage can. But at least the bungee cord held.

Sometimes, Man relied upon other strategies to protect his trash. For a while, when he heard Raccoon, he would pop up out of bed, usually waking his beloved Wife, pull on a pair of pants, and go out and turn on the porch light while sounding a battle cry. Like most things, it worked for a while until the night came when Raccoon, upon seeing Man yelling and waving a broom in his direction, simply glared back and refused to move. �You and what army?� he asked with his eyes. Having no army, Man retreated. (Man says he did not. He simply returned to the house.)

Then, for a while, things were quiet. Raccoon seemed to have moved on. Raccoon, however, is now back with a vengeance. In the latest battle, Raccoon has upped the ante. No longer is Raccoon contented to settle for Man�s garbage. Now Raccoon wants Man�s house.

Last night, Man and I heard strange scratching sounds along the wall of our bedroom. The sound stopped when he went to investigate and started again when he came in so we knew it was an animal outside. (The outside part was a relief because it had occurred to us that the animal could be in the crawlspace under the bedroom.) We feared it might be the return of a skunk who tried to move in next to us once but it was not.

In the morning, Man could see that it was Raccoon. Raccoon had pried down the board between our foundation and the siding and had moved in. Man wants him out.

So, Man has devised a plan. We had an ear of corn that we bought but was not fit for human consumption. He has placed that ear temptingly in our backyard so that when Raccoon goes for this delicious corn, Man can get between Raccoon and Raccoon�s new home, hammer the board back up, and splash it with tabasco sauce to discourage Raccoon�s return.

So, I�m sitting here in the not-so-wilds of suburbia watching the corn, ready to call Man, his hammer, and his flashlight from dishwashing duty on a moment�s notice. Perhaps within a day or two I�ll be able to tell you that Man has won. If not, we�ll be calling the critter control guy. Man will assemble that army if he needs to, but he plans not to need to.

(WARNING TO ALL THOSE PRACTICAL JOKERS I KNOW AND LOVE: Nothing in this entry is to be construed as suggesting in any way that we need a raccoon alarm clock, raccoon ice cream scoop, raccoon pitcher, or any other raccoon item your eyes may see. Signed, the Management)

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