Ya Got Coons!

Ya Got Coons

“Ya Got Coons,” the animal control person says. “Bad news,” I thought, “Really, bad news”. Yeah, we had been through this before. Having coons is worse than having fleas or the kids having lice in the hair.

Racoons look like a sweet woodland creature on the cartoons. They aren’t. And with the last cold snap that we had in Ozarklandia, a family of coons decided that they would come live with us. Coons never ask permission, they just move in like trailer-trash relatives that are ready to have you support them forever. You provide and they take. And move in they did. They pulled out a small board on the facing of the roof and wiggled through.

No invitations needed nor expected. They made an opening and in they marched. “Where is the food,” they yelled.

They announce their arrival by cavorting in the attic. They can’t just move in and be good neighbors. No , when they move in the house is theirs. They poop in your attic and wake you up at night. They are nocturnal animals and at night when good folk are sleeping, they like to cut up, wrestle with one another, go out for late night snacks or order in a pizza.

They are social beasts. When one comes in there is always more. They bring their families and other relatives . The more coons the merrier. They go in out of your attic through their little doors all hours of the night. They party with no apologies to you and then zonk out in the daytime and pretend that nothing happened and they aren’t there.

However, they don’t move out and they don’t go away. At least not voluntarily.

Your home is their home. This quickly morphs to it quickly being their home and their house and you get the hindmost and can move out as far as they are concerned. They believe that possession is nine-tenths of the law. And believe me, when I say that our house has been possessed by coons.

They tear up your insulation, chew through your wires, eat through the wood, unhook the heating and cooling and generally create havoc wherever they go. They are not your friends but your enemy.

It is you and and your family or they and their family. Period. The end. And so that’s why we called a professional gun slinger. Our town had been possessed by the bad guys and we want them to be run out of town. Coons don’t negotiate. They only understand one thing. It is you or them. They don’t care what the law is. “ Law is for people folk not coons”, they say. They laugh at court orders of ejectment. They only understand brute force.

Yes, coons are bandits. They don’t wear that little mask around their eyes to be cute. They are thieves and they obey no laws other than coon laws which you and I do not understand but are for coons alone. They take what they want when they want it. And the coons had laid claim to our house.

Well, Harley dad has seen these varmints before. And they are not welcome here. You like them and want them. Well, my advice you is come get them. You can have ‘em. Free. Just get your bleedin’ heart down to Ozarklandia and I will fill up your car with coons and you can take them back to wherever you came from.

Not not too much is written by theologians about coons. I guess if you are at a University or a high-falootin’ school of theology, coons are not what immediately come to your mind. However, after seeing a group of coons move in take over the house, laugh at the family and terrorize the dog and the cat, you begin to view them less from a philosophical perspective and more from a theological perspective.

Coons must be little agents of the devil, after all they come to “steal, kill and destroy.” Well perhaps that may be goings a little far; but you can say that the house is possessed by coons. And HarleyDad is calling upon some professional exorcisers to kick those critters out.

Jesus told the story about how one man was delivered from demons and got his house all organized and cleaned out and seven more demons came in worse than the first. It makes you wonder if Jesus had seen a group of coons try to move in before. That is the way coons act. If you get rid of them and don’t close up the hole in the roof (every hole in the roof), they bring their friends and move back in in and make your attic their home, and the new group is worse than the first.

Yeah, and that is just the way sin is. Sin in the Greek is harmatia or something like that. I hear it means missing the mark, a falling short of God’s standard and plan. We all miss this standard and we all need the grace of God.

Coons are like little sins. You think your house is tight and in order. But they slip in during the night through some little crack. Perhaps through something you saw or heard or felt. And once sin is there in your attic, it moves it to stay. It whispers sweet words that it will coexist with the rest of your life. But sin lies. It parties all night. It grows bigger and nastier. Your house is its house, your possessions its possessions. Little venial critters grow into big mortal critter sins. And if they get big enough they may try to take over the house and kick you out. Sins are like coons, they try to bully the rightful owners of the house.

I suspect that is why Jesus took a hard-line view of sin. He knew that sin was like them coons that moved in. Jesus said “If your hand offends you, cut it off. If your eye offends you cast it out. It is better to enter into the kingdom of heaven maimed than to be whole and not enter it at all. “ At least I think he said somethin’ like that. Jesus did not believe that you could work out a deal or compromise with the devil or with sin. And, I would add that you can’t do it with coons either.

So Coons, enjoy yourselves. Because your days are numbered. You aren’t welcome here! We are going to kick your little coon butts right outa here.

And that is the theological view of coons, I guarantee.

HarleyDad