Highly adaptable, clever and opportunistic, Rocky represents the tried and true pioneer spirit of the American people.
I, for one, am completely amazed that Rocky (our backyard dweller) is still alive.
Now that last statement assumes he is still alive.
The last time I saw him he was still alive.
If Rocky could speak he may very well have said (in your best Monty Python accent) “I’m not dead yet!”
It was around 10PM Saturday and we had just settled down for the night.
The windows were open because of the nice breeze coming off the delta.
I heard the distinct sound of a startled animal (Janice makes the same sound every time Greg says he’s going to the GC) followed by a tremendous bang and an immense shower of sparks.
It looked like the old time photographers flash bulbs but 100 times louder and brighter.
In that same instant our power went out.
I knew our cat was outside frolicking and wondered if the dog had chased her up the utility pole.
I don’t have the words to describe if this would have been a good thing or a bad thing.
The transformer reset itself and our power came back on.
About 30 seconds later the same bang, the same flash, the same shower of light and our power went off again.
Once again the transformer reset itself and our power came back on.
I waited for about five minutes grabbed a flashlight and headed out to investigate the crime scene.
The area of the yard (all the way in the back) borders a creek and is densely covered in trees and shrubs.
The dog had routinely jumped into this horticulture cocktail barking like crazy at what we presumed to be a stray cat, a varmint, or an exiled member of In Sync.
I wasn’t terribly excited about finding the charred remains of whatever tangled with the transformer - I just wanted to find it before the dog found it!
Nothing on our side of the fence but I could hear rustling on the other side of the fence.
I jumped up on the fence, shined my torch and saw Rocky backed up against the fence breathing heavily,
Rocky made no attempt to run away which I attributed to his backside being fried. It was clear he had made contact with his backside.
I can’t imagine that he was able to crawl down but I also can’t imagine that he would be able to survive a fall from that height.
Add to the mix that there were two bangs, two light shows and we see that either there were two coons up there and one took the brunt of it OR Rocky took two shots of high voltage, fell down to the ground (or climbed down) and was still alive.
Sunday afternoon Reese and I went outside to fully investigate the scene in broad daylight.
Again, I wanted to make sure there was nothing there for the dog to devour.
The dog accompanied us and immediately focused in on the area in which Rocky had been (although on the other side of fence).
She was smelling and tracking like the bloodhound she’s not.
We searched around a bit more and found this lying on the ground.
Which leads me to a new theory.
Rocky’s brother (or friend) looked at him on Saturday night and said “I bet you can’t climb up there and take off that High Voltage sign.”
Words which set into motion a series of catastrophic events.
