“Pringle! Show yourself!” I cried, stomping so hard the impact raced up my foot and all the way through my calf. I tried to be fair to the animals that had made themselves part of my world, to accept them for their unique selves. Most of the time that was easy…
But this particular raccoon was driving me straight in the direction of the nearest asylum.
His laughter continued from under the porch, but Pringle made no move to answer my call. I had half a mind to widen the hole he used as a doorway and climb under there myself when Octo-Cat graciously intervened.
“Angela, that’s not how this is done.” He paced the edge of the porch with tail and nose held high. Whatever he was about to suggest, he was obviously very proud of it.
I stopped stomping and placed a hand on my hip, widening my eyes as I waited for Octo-Cat to enlighten me.
“Paisley, stay,” he said to the Chihuahua, then trotted down the stairs and approached the edge of the raccoon’s nearly hidden burrow. “Sir Pringle, would you kindly give us the distinct honor of your presence?”
I heard the raccoon before I saw him. “At your service, dear Octavius.”
When I peeked over the railing, I saw him making a deep bow toward my cat. For whatever reason, he idolized the tabby. At least that was his excuse for stealing so many of Octo-Cat’s things. I still didn’t know where his occasional fairytale knight mannerisms came from, but he clearly enjoyed this particular brand of make-believe.
Normally, I’d play along, but I was too angry to play by the raccoon’s ever-changing rules today.
“What’s this?” I demanded, waving the brightly colored flyer in the air.
Pringle bared his teeth in irritation. “I’m not at your beck and call, you know.”
I bared my teeth right back, just barely holding in an irritated scream. I’d never hurt a hair on his thieving head but hoped I could at least scare him into good behavior with the threat of it.
“Pray, answer the fair maiden’s question,” Octo-Cat intervened yet again. Oh, jeez. I’d have to block whatever medieval fantasy channel he was watching on TV when I wasn’t around to supervise. Even though I realized he was trying to help, this whole thing was turning into one giant migraine.
The raccoon ran up the porch steps, climbed the railing, and plucked the paper from my hands. “That’s mine,” he said then tucked it under his armpit before running back to the yard and out of my reach.
I placed both my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes at him. “Actually, it’s mine.”
“Finders, keepers.” The smile that crept across his face now was far worse than his earlier show of aggression.
“What? No!” I cried. Just as I’d never hurt him, I knew Pringle would never cause me physical harm. At the moment, I was feeling rather emotionally attacked, however.
“Mommy, do you want me to chase the big bad raccoon away?” Paisley wagged her tail in excitement, refusing to take her eyes off the masked thief for even a second.
“Oh, no, sweetie, you don’t have to…” My words trailed away as I watched Pringle dive into the newly distributed leaves and gather up the remaining flyers.
“Actually,” I said, changing my mind in an instant. “Go for it.”
The little tri-color dog took off like a shot, barking at the top of her lungs. “Hey, you! Nobody messes with my mommy!”
Pringle lowered himself to all fours and shook his head. “Call off your hound. Let’s discuss this like the civilized creatures I know at least one of us is.”
Paisley ran a wide arc around the yard and then returned to my side. “He’s still there,” she pouted, then instantly brightened again. “Should I try again, Mommy?”
I smiled and bent down to pet her silky fur. “You did great. Thank you.” Rising again, I marched straight over to Pringle. “Okay, let’s hear it. Why did you take all my flyers?”
“They’re pretty,” he explained, hugging the disheveled stack to his chest. “I like pretty things.”
“But they weren’t here. I put them up all over town. How did you even…?”
He shrugged. “So I hitched a ride. Sometimes I like to go on adventures, too, you know? It would be nice if I didn’t have to invite myself, but since you’re not doing the job.” He shrugged again. If I wasn’t mistaken, the beginnings of tears had formed in the corners of his giant black eyes. Strange how sometimes my animal friends seemed more human than any of the people I knew.
“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” I squatted down to face him head on. “I didn’t know you wanted to come, too.”
“Of course I wanted to come!” he shouted. “I like adventures just as much as the next forest animal, you know.”
I chose not to mention that distributing flyers begging for work was hardly an adventure. “Tell you what, next time we’ll invite you along, too. Deal?” Or at least the next time after I’d had a chance to cool down. As it was, he’d wasted a day and a half of hard work when I’d have given him colored paper had he just asked for it.
Pringle shook his head and eyed me warily. “Not quite.”
I waited, refusing to add fuel to his flaming theatrics. I got enough of this from Octo-Cat, and frankly I liked him far more than this nuisance raccoon who’d become a frenemy at best.
Pringle sighed. “I’m keeping the pretty papers.”
“Why do you even need them?” I asked with a groan.
“I’m taking up origami, and these will do very nicely.” Pringle turned his nose up so high I could only see chin, then he marched straight back to his under-porch apartment.
How did he even know origami was a thing?
And how did he know enough to want to attempt it himself?
What an odd animal.
“See, Mommy! I scared him away!” Paisley sat proudly on the edge of the porch, shaking so hard with excitement that I hadn’t the heart to tell her that Pringle had played us rather than other way around.
“That guy…” Octo-Cat plopped himself down beside the Chihuahua. “He’s getting way too big for his britches.”
I couldn’t agree more, but for the moment I was done discussing the masked menace. We had too much else we could be doing with our day.
“C’mon, you two,” I said with a sigh. “It looks like we need to come up with a new advertising plan.”
As the three of us filed back indoors, a new determination overtook me. My P.I. business would succeed or fail based on its own merits. I would not let an egotistical raccoon with delusions of grandeur stand between me and the role I just knew I was meant to play in this world—or at least in my small corner of it.
“I know that look,” Octo-Cat said with an open-mouthed smile that showed off his pointy teeth. “Nobody puts Angie in a corner.”
I snorted at that one, picturing myself in the classic 80s romance opposite Patrick Swayze. Even though he used to watch only Law & Order, he’d greatly expanded his viewing habits in recent months. Largely, thanks to my nan.
And while I appreciated my cat’s support, I definitely needed to start limiting his television time.