In the wilds of New Jersey

Not enough that the month of June reminded me of London, now I have to contend with strange critters in my suburban Jersey home. The other day I found my Jack Russell - Duke bouncing off the garage doors. Not unusual by any means. What was unusual was the response inside of the garage to his mighty pounding paws. Screeches, growls and hisses. Closer I went to investigate and came eye to eye with a raccoon. She recoiled. I jumped and squealed like a little girl at a Twilight premiere. Happens to the best of us, I don't care if I can take down an entire bottle of Cuervo at one sitting, I still get rattled by furry critters with pointy clawlike hands, especially when they are protecting their young. Which this mama raccoon was as evidenced by the ruckus inside the garage.

I wisely grabbed the dog and bolted inside. He was rather put out by being abruptly removed from the noisy object of his fascination. I told him to watch the Animal Planet and consulted Google about *raccoon new jersey*. This is what one listing says:

A raccoon is often rabid, without showing any outward symptoms of the viral disease. The public's fascination with this native New Jersey animal, rabies becomes even greater a threat than previously thought. Not only can a raccoon carry (and spread) the rabies virus; the female raccoon can actually pass the virus to her unborn kits through her uterus.

Despite what a group of Nutley animal activists believe, I am an ardent animal supporter. I fervently support the protection of wolves from that helicopter riding, aerial shooting Sarah Palin. I'm happy to foster small critters and babysit fish, birds and reptiles (although I draw the line at snakes...) But when it comes to the safety of my dog, my elderly cane-dependent parents and myself, I confess I'm all for establishing my boundaries.

So in comes a specialist who rummages through the garage rafters. No raccoon nests here, he informs me casually. Although apparently the squirrels have been stockpiling twine, rubber foam and other winter goodies that make a squirrel's life toasty during snow days. Just to make sure, the wildlife guy sets a trap to catch any unwanted visitors. You'll set what you catch free? I ask nervously. Appalled at the thought of my visiting raccoons being sold for their coats. Or even worse, to some backwoods Pennsyltucky Cletis for food. The wildlife guy assures me he releases the catch in a wildlife habitat that could accommodate a new entry - such as the woods.

The trap catches nothing till the dog decides to investigate and nearly gets caught himself. He slinks indoors, suitably chastized by the encounter. I retreat indoors as well, sobered by the realization that as much I love nature and wee animals, there is no Disney happy ending when it comes to the two of us conjoining living spaces. Moreoever nature is sometimes disturbing, not always tidy but always demanding of respect.