Monday, February 22, 2010

Invasion of The Robber Baron

I'm afraid we've had yet another instance of things that go bump and shriek in the night. I know I should be used to it by now but I still find it a shock to be wakened from a sound sleep by the sounds of Armageddon unfolding outside my window.

We four equines were all dozing (and some of us - notably the Haflinger variety - were snoring) in our deep beds when the most bloodcurdling sounds arouse just outside the window. Doc was first on his feet and was able to give us a blow-by-blow account of the mayhem.

"Bawoooo-ooooo-oooo" was the first thing we heard, apparently from the Hound of the Baskervilles - in fact it was Penny doing her best hunting hound imitation. We then heard a confused scuffling and various levels of growling and hissing. The house door opened again and this is what Doc saw. "Geez Louise, it's a spectacle (I think he meant spectre)! It's wearin pink fuzzy stuff an a hat with flaps and it's carrying a big wooden spoon! It's fallin over it's feet now cos it's shoes is too big! Now it goin over to the big tree and looking up and yelling and wavin the spoon thing! Oh wait, it's just Herself." With that he went back to his remaining hay.

I mean, really. Is this normal? I think not. A few minutes later Herself appeared in the barn door and flicked on the light. Her face was flushed and mottled. She was indeed wearing bright pink night clothing made of material that had, I assume, been rejected as too gaudy for novelty beach towels. She had thrown some sort of shawl around her shoulders and this was complemented by the horrible "Elmer Fudd" hat of many flaps. She wore the male human's galoshes on her feet and yes, she was brandishing a long-handled wooden spoon. My heart is still leaping about like a gaffed salmon from the visual shock of it all.

It seems one of those masked, ring-tailed creatures we call a Robber Baron had the temerity to walk across the lawn and Penny had spotted it from her lookout post in an upstairs window. Penny rocketed outside and commenced battle - in my opinion not a wise decision as the Robber Baron is approximately twice her size. They had the spine-chilling exchange of unpleasantries that we had heard and the woman, in a rush to protect Penny, had exited the house clad as - well - as Doc said, as a spectacle. I have no idea what she proposed to do with the wooden spoon - perhaps puree the miscreant or batter it to death. The RB wisely retreated to the top of the tree and averted it's gaze.

Why any sort of wildlife would want to come anywhere near this madhouse is beyond me but they seem to be drawn as if by magnetic force. I anticipate many more sleepless nights, punctuated with ungodly sound effects and who knows what sartorial crimes.


Gale said...

I may be smiling when I write this, Sheaffer, but I urge you to temper your comments about the woman's midnight attire...after all, she was braving the cold, dark night to save you and Penny from robbers and evil barons. (Someone please save me, are we talking about raccoons here?) And God bless Penny for trying to scare it/them off! I have a feeling that the "pink fuzzy stuff" probably took care of that.

I avoid that midnight activity by using Have-a-Heart traps with tempting things like catfood and canned fish for bait. But lately all I've managed to capture has been a colorful assortment of pole-cats (skunks!) which I VERY cautiously release and then watch as they waddle back toward the barn where they were caught. Oh well.........maybe they'll thank me later on by eating pests in the garden, ya' think?

billie said...

This is one of those TV episode posts, Sheaffer. All I can say is PBS is missing out on a golden opportunity to cash in big.

Can't you just see it? You opening in a wingback chair, sipping brandy, and beginning the evening's tale.

Cut to the peaceful quiet of the barn, Molly's snoring creating a soothing rhythm.

Interrupted by Doc's leaping up and providing his commentary of the view out the window.

I'm sure Jack would have something to add in.

Cut to Molly checking her forelock in her stall mirror, wearing her negligee.

Cut to you looking mortified but naturally remaining dignified.

Then, cut to the barn door. Suspense. Terror. THE WOMAN in her robber baron scaring garb!

The mystery solved.

Then back to you in the wingback, summing it all up for us in your stately fashion.

One day someone's going to listen to me and when they do, and you get rich and famous, I fully expect an autographed head shot!

ponymaid said...

Gale, yes, I believe the Robber Barons are also know as raccoons. I also believe, as you do, that it took one look at the woman's attire and decided the crime against fashion was simply too great to bear. You are a very brave woman, handling those odoriferous polecats - should they decide to engage you in gas warfare you may have to sleep rough for a few months. Handle with care.

Billie, you are my official scriptwriter. I especially like the touch of Molly admiring herself in a mirror - how did you guess that one?! The Robber Baron took last night off - presumably to try and cleanse it's retinas of the image of a madwoman threatening it with a wooden spoon. Do you think it might need therapy?

embee said...

Oh how I love your blog Sheaffer; always good for a laugh!

ponymaid said...

embee, you are kind indeed! I'm glad you enjoy my musings - they provide me with some release from the monotony of living on this blasted, snowy heath. My readers are my lifeline to the outside world - one where small donkeys of substantial girth are appreciated.