The Masked Gangs of Blackberry Bay

I know what you're thinking. "Aw, they're so cuuute!"

And yes, they are cute. That's because they're Facebook raccoons. Facebook raccoons are adorable.

And the ones in Stanley Park in Vancouver - not so bad. But I have different raccoons at my house.

My raccoons are mafia raccoons. They travel in gangs and carry weapons.

The first time I saw one I heard some movement on my back deck one night. I opened the patio door curtains and switched on the porch light and there he was, chilling out on my lounge chair. I could tell in a moment that he was not the cuddly let's make friends type. I motioned to him to go away. He looked at me as if to say, "Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?" I still kept motioning. I guess I could have opened the door hoping that would chase him away but that also risked having my throat slit open.

He looked at me. "Bring me a beer," he said. Well, sort of.

I gave up. I was not going to bring him a beer or any other kind of drink. I closed the curtains, turned off the light and made sure my doors were securely locked. I didn't want any bandits breaking in.

A couple of days later one of my lounge chair cushions was gone. I guess he figured he wanted one at home. In spite of my locked doors, he robbed me anyway.

He has a condo in my ivy covered pear tree. The staircase to it is the tree in the neighbors yard. You cannot see into my tree it's so covered in ivy and if the ivy were ever removed that tree would probably just fall down.

I've never seen little ones. No cute adorables playing in the yard.

But the big ones sometimes hang out across the street at the neighbors house and make the dog scream.

Yes, they make the dog scream. I know it's the dog because I hear the dog barking, and then I hear the dog screaming.

One night when I got home I sat in my car and watched as two gangs of raccoons faced off in the middle of the road. It was like they were going to bring out switchblades and start doing a dance off to West Side story songs. I was not about to get out of the car to deal with that. There was a lot of posturing and then they suddenly broke it off like the cops were coming.

A few days later there was a dead one on the sidewalk outside of my house. I don't know what he did, but that's what happens when you join a gang.

I understand that raccoons help keep the rodent population away. That's why I don't fight them. If they want to live in my tree and keep the rats away from me then I'll accept that. I'd rather have a raccoon around than rats. It's kind of like paying off the gangsters to keep the more evil criminals away.

But still, what am I going to do if I come home one night and I find Rocky sitting on my front porch chair chilling out with a beer and daring me to approach the only door into my house? He carries a switchblade, I don't.