So I'm driving home tonight from my parents place in Orlando. About halfway home, a huge suicidal raccoon jumps out in front of me. It happened so quick, I didn't even have time to swerve or slam on my brakes. Like Batman, the air was filled with sign bubbles reading, "POW," "BANG" and "ZOWIE!" (If you're driving highway 50 west of Groveland, that big dead coon in the middle of the road belongs to me).
I drive home, pull out the flashlight and sure enough, coon guts are coating the undercarriage of my car. Yuck! (There's coon hair stuck in various places as well). Busted some plastic parts, but nothing necessary. They are however, hanging down now and I figured first thing in the morning some quick work with a Saws All will do the trick.
However, like Tony Montana after his narrow escape from the Babylon Club, I am paranoid. In these parts, coons carry rabies. Someone put my mind at easy and convince me I will not catch rabies in the morning as I remove the broken parts of my car and wash what remains of said coon away.
Any help with this potentially threatening encounter will make both me and Mr. Rodgers feel better about our neighborhood.
I drive home, pull out the flashlight and sure enough, coon guts are coating the undercarriage of my car. Yuck! (There's coon hair stuck in various places as well). Busted some plastic parts, but nothing necessary. They are however, hanging down now and I figured first thing in the morning some quick work with a Saws All will do the trick.
However, like Tony Montana after his narrow escape from the Babylon Club, I am paranoid. In these parts, coons carry rabies. Someone put my mind at easy and convince me I will not catch rabies in the morning as I remove the broken parts of my car and wash what remains of said coon away.
Any help with this potentially threatening encounter will make both me and Mr. Rodgers feel better about our neighborhood.