Raccoons? We got raccoons.

The other day I opined, on the scientific basis of never having seen any myself, that raccoons are rare in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I knew, however, that sooner or later someone would set me straight. A neighbor who lives a couple of miles away -- the same one whose place was trashed by Bruno the Bear on July 30 -- e-mails:

"Rare raccoons? Last fall four rare raccoons appeared on our deck, pooped all over and methodically destroyed my bird feeders. My husband live traps them and takes them for a long ride into the boonies. Dad swore they'd slink off into the woods and then as soon as you got into the vehicle they'd run out, hop on the rear bumper and hitch a ride back home. He went so far as to spray paint their backs in an effort to prove that the same ones kept coming back. Either they were unique individuals or the paint wore off on the journey home.

"I wouldn't mind having them around if they could dine with some manners, didn't have howling fights beneath the bedroom window in the wee hours, and learned to hang their butts off the deck before unloading. Until then, it's the live trap and ride into the country for them."

I stand corrected.