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Funnest Summer of My Life - Personal Essay

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Reagan Anderson         

period 6

611/11/2014                          

Funnest Summer Of My Life

        I pushed and kicked trying to get them away from the tree. They had a hose stuffed down the hole of the tree, flooding the inside.  “You are going to kill them,” I screamed. I managed to squeeze my small body between them and peer down the opening. They pushed me away. I pretended to cry as if I had gotten hurt in my fall. They continued to work as if I wasn't there. They placed the shovel in the opening of the hole so nothing could escape. Trying something new,  I ran to the tap to turn off the water, but they wouldn’t let me. My mom tried to talk them into just killing the mother, and they agreed, but it was too late. When the water seeped through the trunk of the tree, I peered into the darkness of the hole in the tree trunk. Nothing was moving, just lifeless bodies and I began to cry.  It was more than my twelve year old heart could bare.    

        In the year of  2010 my dog and I found a family of five raccoons, in an old hollowed out tree in my Grandma's apple orchard.  Despite how cute racoons may appear, my Grandma knew how much trouble raccoons could be. She quietly asked my cousins to get rid of them. They got the bright idea of  filling their den with water and blocking the entrance.  When my mom talked them into just killing the mother raccoon they finely let me pass to see what was left of the poor raccoons. When we looked in the small opening of the tree, all we could see were lifeless bodies. As we peered into the darkness of the hole I noticed a very slight movement. One of the baby racoons was barely holding on to life. We all tried to reach him but the hole was too deep. My cousins laughingly suggested filling the hole with water a second time and floating the bodies to the top of the hole. We were running out of time, so we took the hose and quickly filled the tree's cavity with water. The small body looking lifeless now floated up. It looked pretty clear that he was dead.

 I begged my mother saying,

        “Mom, if I can bring him back to life, can we keep him?” My mom, believing he was already dead, and there was no chance of us returning life to his body, agreed. I quickly set to rubbing his body with a small doll blanket that belonged to my sister. I blew air into his limp body by cupping my hand over his snout, frantically trying to breath life into him.  It seemed like an eternity.  The first signs of life came by his quiet whimpering which soon changed into a heart breaking wail. My mom had almost forgotten she had agreed to adopt a baby raccoon, when she heard his awful cries.

        When we got home my dad, who had been on a turkey hunt, was very surprised and a little annoyed. Being raised as a farmer's son he did not like the idea of having a raccoon around, but he couldn’t finish voicing his complaints, my sister interrupted by bringing in a fresh bottle of lamb's milk, which she offered to the small raccoon, who took it excitedly. “Rascal” I stated “lets call him Rascal”    

        Rascal was beyond adorable, very shy, and baby like. It took a while to teach him that night was for sleeping, and not for chewing on my feet, or making a mess of my hair. He slept with me every night, and I remember staying up until twelve trying to get him to go to sleep. He would climb up on me bed and start biting my toes and playing with my hair. Me only being twelve and having very little patience for a little ball of energy, I started pushing him off the bed and eventually kicking him after the continuous gnawing on my toes. But very slowly he learned that we sleep at night.

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