This is just one of the stories that will go into the new book. Each chapter will begin with a story told by a fictional woodland critter.
Bandit Raccoon
It’s Saturday night at Mutton Creek Marina and Campgrounds at the South end of beautiful Stockton Lake, in a cozy little cove. One of my favorite things to do is swim in the lake. It feels so good to swim around in the cool water on a hot summer evening. I even hunt for food in the water. When I find food in other places, I usually bring it to the lake. Some people say I hold it in the water to soften it, and others say I wash it. I know why I do it, but I’m not gonna tell. It’s a raccoon secret.
Saturday night is party time. Most of the campers are winding down from a wonderful time of fishing, playing games, cooking out and relaxing. Some have been here a long time, some have been here all week, and some came just for the weekend. Many will be leaving in the morning. They have filled their tummies with delicious burgers, hot dogs, steaks or ribs and all the fixin’s. Most of them sat around the dying embers and told camping stories while they made s’mores. When they were so stuffed it was hard to breathe, they stumbled off to bed for one last night of good rest. That means it’s party time for Bandit. There is absolutely no adventure better than camping!
I am known around here as Bandit, probably because of the little mask I wear. My fur is gray and my bushy tail has black rings around it. My entire raccoon family lives here at Mutton Creek, and we look forward to summer as much as the campers do. Some of the campers always leave their food out at night, but even the savvy ones usually drop tidbits on the ground. They sometimes leave my favorites, such as nuts, berries and. . .what’s this stuff in the bottle. It has to be good, ‘cause it has pictures of mountains on it. C. . .O. . .O. . .R. . .S. I don’t have any idea what that means. Maybe if I just sniff, I’ll know what it is. WHOA, that smells strong. Wonder what it tastes like. Oh boy, I’ve never tasted anything like that in my life. It isn’t even good, but I think I’ll try it one more time. Oops, I tipped it over too far. I’ll just lick up what I spilled. That stuff’s not even good. Hmmm, think I’ll turn the bottle up and get just onnne more little taste, and then I’ll go camp out the check ground. (hiccup) Hey, I see two bottles now. No, wait, there’s just, nope, I was right, there’s two. I don’t know how bany mottles are there, but they are jumping up and down now. (hiccup) Wish they’d be still! I need to find some food. Oh no, my feet don’t wanna touch the ground! I think I’ll just lie here and rest a while.
Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer. What would happen if one should fall, ninety-eight bottles of C O O R S o n t h e w a l l. . . .
Here’s a good camping tip for you: To make clean-up easier, put a few drops of liquid dish detergent and a few drops of water and rub them on the bottom of pans that are going over an open fire. The smoke washes off easily!
