Living in the woods

I wanted a house in the country.  It was all my fault.  I'm not cut out to be a city person.  The very first night we were here, I looked out my front window and I saw trees... and trees... and deer.

and I was all excited because "ooh how pretty!  I love living in nature!"

Shortly thereafter, a groundhog was discovered undermining the integrity of the cement floor in our shed.  Then the Designated Hitter started freaking out because our yard is full of moles and gophers.

The next spring, I wanted a garden.  The beans were happily climbing their poles, and then:

(it's awfully hard for a bean plant to live if the top is no longer physically connected to the bottom)

Last week, in the middle of the afternoon I looked out my window and saw the following:

that's a raccoon, in broad daylight, eating out of a bird feeder, less than 20 yards from my back door.

And then there was this morning.

only much less friendly (and amorous) and much more stinky and diabolical and probably rabid.  Okay I have no reason to believe he's rabid except for the fact that my paranoia/hypochondria also covers rabies.  After I saw the raccoon last week I started researching symptoms of rabies in humans to find out if I was going to die, even though the raccoon was showing no signs of being rabid and I did not come in any contact with it.  I'm afraid to let Muppy outside now!  (Although he has a rabies shot.  And Frontline, so I get ticks and he does not.  Why are dogs so well protected and I am not?) 

P.S. I also saw two toads humping on my back step.  That was funny though.  It was all legs in all directions.  I felt a little dirty for watching them, but I was not in fear for my life.  My soul, maybe, but not my life.