by Michael J. Killips
I followed the large raccoon as he worked his way under our deck. The larger mother raccoon watched me from a distance, seeing that there was little she could do to protect her youngin’. There was just enough space under the deck for me to crawl in GI fashion towards the raccoon in the back corner. He stood with paws raised high making himself as big as he could showing his teeth as he hissed at me. I slowly moved forward offering my hand extended down low as I often do when I meet a new dog. My dreams of becoming a raccoon whisperer ended in a sudden flurry of scratching, biting, hissing, screaming and blood as I was forced to find a new way out from under the deck through the deck’s lattes.
Michael J. Killips has written scripts professionally for medical video productions. Now he's looking to expand his writing experience by exploring different genres.