No Escaping the Raccoons

That which you resist persists. And so it was with the raccoons in my dream last night.

Those bulbous, bushy-tailed bandits were stalking me.

Not that I have any real prejudice against raccoons, but I do know they can be fierce if crossed. My first roommate in college, case in point. Her shins were covered in scars from the attack she had suffered as a girl when her neighbor’s ‘pet’ raccoon escaped. She was merely walking in her own yard when their paths crossed, it got startled, and charged her with teeth and claws.

So last night in my dream, there were not one, but two of those striped ring-tails, lumbering about the perimeter of my family’s fence. I thought myself wise to simply climb the gate and avoid all contact.

photo courtesy of Ingrid Taylar
photo courtesy of Ingrid Taylar

But as soon as I clambered to the fence, it was as if I’d sipped the ‘Drink Me’ potion left for Alice in Wonderland. The garden gate grew immensely tall, taking me to an extreme elevation, leaving the raccoons pacing far below. But not for long. Suddenly, with agile grace and a subtle air of “ah..ah..ahhhh,” the raccoons scaled the vertical plane of the fence with ease, not only meeting me at my height, but surpassing me.

Now, I was clinging to the fence at a point much-higher-than-comfortable, looking up at the raccoons that were peering down upon me from above. I could shimmy back down the mammoth face of the warping fence line, but these slinky wild things would surely shadow me. Worse yet, they may just pounce on my descent.

Enter new characters to this dreamtime dilemma: right on cue, friendly neighbors with supportive advice and apparent raccoon-handling experience, appear in the dreamscape to gather at the gate below me. They make the verbal confirmation that my strategy to climb out of the reach of raccoons was ill-conceived. These animals are natural climbers and I am out of my element. It is suggested that I attempt to stay above them, rather than beneath.

All agree that the only way out of my predicament is down, and I should prepare for the raccoons to follow.

It is relayed to me that the best mode of operation with these curious, but pesky animals, is not to let them sense my fear. That I must stand in my own power and exude the confidence that conveys, without question, that any semblance of attack upon my person is simply inconceivable.

So when I reach the ground, as expected, my two followers are soon to land as well. I embolden my stance, position myself firmly above them, evoking the spirit of “Dog Whisperer,” Cesar Milan. Few words are spoken, it’s all vibe. And within moments, each raccoon is promptly lying down, just like canines obeying a command.

All sense of urgency or threat is gone. I am the master of my world, my sphere, my body. Nothing is going to strike upon me.

I’ve stopped trying to climb away, and the raccoons are in repose, having ceased their mischievous chase.

Alright, then. With that little nighttime victory, let’s get on with the day.

See if some of that sage courage can seep into my waking world.

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