Tank Attack. Round 2.

The Panzer tank (i.e., toy car) came out of the garage in fighting shape and ready for battle. A couple of bolts and some hot glue was all it took. I was ready for round two. Shortly after sundown, I set the stage once again; tank angled toward the customary feeding ground, power switch ON, camo twigs in place. I activated the controller and gave the trigger a slight squeeze. The car (I mean tank) lurched forward, just a little bit. Perfect.

From newly learned experiences, I found that I had a better view of the area on the computer screen rather than the surveillance screen. In addition, I could control the recording process with more precise start and stop times. As darkness approached, I took up my position. But as the screen came up, I could see a problem. A BIG problem. The car had disappeared! WHAT? Flabbergasted, bumfuzzled, confused, bewildered, all of the above. Outside I go, flashlight in hand, cautiously approaching the area. About ten feet, that’s how far the car had gone before hitting a tree. No apparent damage, but what happened?

Without getting all that technical, I found that once you activate both units, you must keep a constant signal connection between the two, otherwise, the car, when re-acquiring radio contact, loses its little mind and just takes off for galaxies far, far away. Discouraging, but solvable. I move the controller to my observation post before hitting the ON switch. A problem that I shall refer to the engineering department.

I might have closed my eyes, just for a second mind you, but when I looked up, there was Mr. Coonie. But only one, where were the rest of them? Oh, was he ever cautious. He eyed that strange shape, that monster lurking in the shadows like it might be Bigfoot himself. Inch by inch, Mr. Coonie worked toward his goal, the sunflower seeds, MY sunflower seeds, all while keeping one eye on the potential danger.

Come on, come on. Just a little closer.

FIRE! (See photo)

The camera didn’t have the quality to record the detail of such fast action in low light, but the blur still told the story. One raccoon scared shit-less. Humans 4, Raccoons 3.

But my gloating was short-lived. Undeterred or failing to get the memo, the rest of the bunch showed up a little later. Soon after that, a couple of new coonies arrived, and judging from the body language of the others already on scene, mostly unknown, but not unwelcome. A new tribe was about to join forces.

Outnumbered! Big time! Clearly, one little car was not gonna cut it even if it was a Panzer IV.

I was beginning to feel a lot like Gen. George Armstrong Custer at the battle of the Little Bighorn. Not only was I fighting the Lakota Sioux, but now the Northern Cheyenne, and possibly the Arapahoe. And we all know how that turned out.

Back to basics. Watch this space.