It was a hot summer’s night

I had fallen asleep in my den

Suddenly I heard a baby’s cry

Then I heard it again and again

I rushed to the back window

And in the moonlight I did see

Three tiny furry masked faces

Plaintively staring back at me

Their mother had been killed

They were weak and barely alive

I knew that it would be difficult

For these three orphans to survive

So thus began my comedic quest

To help these three waifs mature

Not realizing the zany difficulties

That I would soon have to endure

First I called the closest wildlife refuge

Who told me about baby raccoon formula

And how I would have to hand feed them

With a tiny baby bottle or a long thin straw

But first I would have to capture them

And thus began many long exhausting hours

Of lying in ambush in bushes or on tree limbs

Under the scrutiny of Mrs. Jenkins The Dour

I soon named these three elusive rascals

Rocky Rockette and The Masked Bandit

And for pursuing them all around her home

Crabby old Mrs. Jenkins hasn’t forgiven me yet

She would awaken in the middle of the night

And find me directly below her kitchen window

Or she would peer up into her old crab apple tree

And find me perched on a limb in the moon’s glow

Mrs. Jenkins The Extremely Dour elderly woman

Soon began to believe in her cranky heart and soul

That her insane retired tree climbing male neighbor

Was truly a horrid Peeping Tom who was very bold

On the warm starry night that I finally managed to capture

Two of these elusive orphans - she called the police on me

But as I stood in the moonlight bottle feeding these babies

The responding police officer burst out laughing with glee

These two extremely cute furry masked raccoon infants

Were taken to the wildlife refuge to begin their new lives

And for weeks after as I chased Bandit around her house

Mrs. Jenkins would constantly cuss and complain to my wife

The elusive Masked Bandit has now happily matured and survived

And he now loves to irritate Mrs. Jenkins the Dour most every night

I often see him through my kitchen window in the eerie moonlight

Digging up her precious flowers or peeing on her patio with delight

I’ve now given up chasing Bandit through the bushes and the trees

But I truly love this wild furry little rascal – he’s very much like me

©2005, Ed Kostro – an excerpt from Curious Creatures-Wondrous Waifs, My Life with Animals