One of the none-too-bright dogs who run in the yard next door. They don’t actually belong to the neighbor, but to the neighbor-but-one, who does her yardwork and in turn is allowed to exercise these yappers behind her fences. They have never learned that we live here, and every time they see us is the first time.

There are two of the pesty little creatures, and they are almost identical in every way: intellect, or lack thereof, included. How they coexist in the same house with a baby (and there is one in there, younger than sparrow,) I have no earthly idea. How they coexit with humans at all, I have no idea.

Share your yappy dog stories, can you?

The amount of wildlife in our neigborhood is simply phenomenal, considering its urban nature. It tempts me to check out night vision rifle scopes to see if I can sit in the dark and watch them trot by. There is the possum that lives in the leaf pile under the rose bush. She likes to climb the mulberry tree and ascend the roof on her own errands. Possums, despite a bit of a bad rap as a non-cute furry garbage disposal, are on my favorite list because of my comix, where they play a big role.

In the back yard up the pecan tree will often be found shinnying is the fat raccoon that rummages in our compost bin. Heavy, gray, and with a dark mask, I know he has cousins who live a few blocks away in a drain, because I walked by one evening to see all three heads popped up like sock puppets blinking at me. Both the possum and the raccoon I have encountered on the back porch. Open goes the door at six am as I am leaving for work, and there is one or anotgher of them blinking at me. Hello! I say. How are you? The raccoon hustles away with little hesitation, but the possum, perhaps bolder, or more indifferent, or just more blind, stares up at me and stands her ground, making me go out the front.

Then there are the cats, and the bats, squirrels. Who knows what else I cannot see. Fox, perhaps? I’d just like to sit, in the dark, with a night vision scope, and watch them parade slowly by, all night, on their affairs, almost heedless to us, the daytime bulky giants that leave so much food behind for them. One animal, after another concealed in (almost) impenetrable shadows . . .