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and threw her tea mug at him, but it all happened too fast. By the time she got near, the female lay dying on her back, her front paws scratching air, a bloody fissure in her belly. |
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The male spun around and for a long moment regarded Terry while churning its tail like a cat about to spring. Terry swished the newspaper at it, but instead of backing away, the animal moved toward her on its hind legs, actually shuffling while rearing up as it got closer, claws fanning at her, its organ poking out of bloody fur as if he wanted her for seconds. |
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She backed until she was behind the lawn furniture. The raccoon stopped. Fully upright, it regarded her, then sauntered back to the carcass and tore out a hunk of meat. |
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Terry stomped toward the animal, again rattling the paper, trying not to think what she'd do if it suddenly sprang at her. The raccoon looked up, its pointy face wet with blood. |
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She stopped cold when a phrase bulleted through her brain: strange animal behavior. And right behind that: rabies. But would rabies explain this obscenity? And didn't rabies mean foaming at the mouth? |
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She looked around for something, a stick, a rakeanything to defend herself. There was nothing within reach. If the animal suddenly charged her . . . she tried not to think of what those claws and teeth could do to her. She could scramble onto the tablebut so could the raccoon. |
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She inched backward so as not to draw it to her. She had moved some six feet when the creature suddenly flew at the ruined female and buried its face in the carcass and with its teeth tore free the intestines. The teeth that nature had designed for bugs and frogsnot flesh of its mate. For a moment it struck Terry that, whatever the cause, the raccoon was suffering some horrendous short circuit of instincts, a confusion of its insectivorous nature with that of some ancient precursory carnivore. But that thought shaded into a more chilling realization. This did not happen to be a confusion of instincts. This wasn't cannibalism. The male was eviscerating his mate, not out of hunger, but because he wanted to. |
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Terry ran back to the table, picked up her chair and threw it. The chair hit the ground clumsily and fell about a foot short of the carcass, sending the male into the woods. She waited, but it was gone. |
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