Back when men wore collared shirts and slacks to do everything--even yard work--my grandfather spent some afternoons tending his gardens. A man who grew up driving cars with hood ornaments and skirted rear wheels,
he had the manners like panelists on "What's My Line".
While sweeping the patio, he saw a raccoon waddle into his yard! Nocturnal creatures, they're not usually out in daylight... unless they're sickly rabid.
Abruptly, my grandfather spun on his heel and hurried inside the house. Peering from the kitchen window, he watched the sick animal creep along the flowerbeds and climb up the wisteria.
My grandfather telephoned the Village Police Department. (Instead of hoping for the county police, the well-funded village employed its own). Since my grandfather used to be a village policeman, his call got priority. Policemen always take care of their retired brethren. The police dispatcher sent a patrolman to investigate. Local traffic parted and pedestrians yielded, as the officer responded.
Meanwhile, my grandfather intended to subdue the creature on his own. From the bathroom's medicine cabinet, he took some sleeping pills (belonging to my dead great-grandmother). Wrapping them in salami, he put them on a plate. Armed with his broom and straw Panama fedora...
...he tiptoed outside again and placed the snack beneath the wisteria tree.
Back at the kitchen window, he saw the varmint descend the wisteria, eat the salami/pills, then return to its perch in the wisteria. It quickly fell asleep.
Meanwhile, the police car pulled up at the curb, with its lights flashing. Ding-dong; my grandfather answered his doorbell. He recognized the officer, they had a friendly chat, and he told him about the snoozing raccoon.
...my grandfather's close-knit neighbors rushed over!
Before getting details, his elderly neighbor, Dolly Christiansen telephoned my mother... which is how we found out. My grandfather's phone was busy with calls from other neighbors, so my mother could not get through to her father. Frantically, she drove us to his house.
My grandfather served rye cocktails to his neighbors, and made coffee for the uniformed men. Recounting his role in Germany, during World War II, he assured them that he remained fearless during the ordeal. With the finesse of Hollywood actor, William Powell, he thanked everyone for their concern and assistance.
Sending everyone away and wishing them well, he returned to his patio for a charcoal barbecue. He'd worked up an appetite!
What a story!
...he tiptoed outside again and placed the snack beneath the wisteria tree.
Back at the kitchen window, he saw the varmint descend the wisteria, eat the salami/pills, then return to its perch in the wisteria. It quickly fell asleep.
Meanwhile, the police car pulled up at the curb, with its lights flashing. Ding-dong; my grandfather answered his doorbell. He recognized the officer, they had a friendly chat, and he told him about the snoozing raccoon.
Simultaneously, another policeman--who was friends with my grandfather--heard the dispatcher mention my grandfather's address. Worried, he activated his lights and siren and sped over to make sure that everything was okay!
In a docile community like Floral Park, the convergence of emergency vehicles always draws a crowd together. It had only been months since I saved my grandfather's life and summoned an ambulance. Recent surgery to his leg artery went awry, and I was in his living room when the blood vessel burst and sprayed onto the carpet. Tying a tourniquet (learned as a Boy Scout), I stopped the bleeding. Next, I called the police, calmed my younger sister, and fetched a neighbor! All ended well.
Thus, when his neighbors saw the flashing lights of two Village Police cars outside his house again...
Thus, when his neighbors saw the flashing lights of two Village Police cars outside his house again...
Before getting details, his elderly neighbor, Dolly Christiansen telephoned my mother... which is how we found out. My grandfather's phone was busy with calls from other neighbors, so my mother could not get through to her father. Frantically, she drove us to his house.
I'm surprised that her speeding didn't bring another police car!
Three nosy people rang the doorbell at once. They crowded the stoop and waited expectantly for my grandfather to answer his door. However, he was preoccupied in his backyard, commiserating with two police buddies and watching a slumbering raccoon.
The neighborhood was surprised when a Pest Control truck arrived.
Poking over the backyard fence, a gaggle of neighbors investigated, as the exterminators walked to the rear of the property. At least the police had something to do: keep back the crowd.
Using a metal pole with cinching lasso, the exterminators captured the dozing raccoon and brought it into a cage.
Poking over the backyard fence, a gaggle of neighbors investigated, as the exterminators walked to the rear of the property. At least the police had something to do: keep back the crowd.
Using a metal pole with cinching lasso, the exterminators captured the dozing raccoon and brought it into a cage.
My grandfather served rye cocktails to his neighbors, and made coffee for the uniformed men. Recounting his role in Germany, during World War II, he assured them that he remained fearless during the ordeal. With the finesse of Hollywood actor, William Powell, he thanked everyone for their concern and assistance.
Sending everyone away and wishing them well, he returned to his patio for a charcoal barbecue. He'd worked up an appetite!
What a story!
Wait- you're deathly squeamish of blood! You're so brave for saving your grandfather
ReplyDeleteThanks! Yes, and that experience probably added to it. I had to leave him holding the tourniquet, while I telephoned 911. Then I helped clean up all the blood that had spurted on the carpet and chair. omg
Delete