Close coon encounter in critter country

A wonderful couple we met on our Mexican Riviera cruise in January invited us to park our rig on their property in Southeastern Oklahoma if we were passing through. When Norm and Susan extended that offer, we didn’t know how much the stay would be needed. 

A week and a half on bright green farmland surrounded by pine, oak, hickory, and maple trees provided a much-needed respite for us to grieve our son’s tragic death in quiet solitude. 

Refuge or rendezvous?

One night early into our stay, I awoke at about 2:20 a.m. overheated. After lying in bed with my mind racing for about 10 minutes, I heard a light scratching at the fifth-wheel door. It didn’t sound like a knock. I knew we hadn’t parked close to any trees, so it couldn’t be a branch being blown in the wind. What was it? I wondered.

We hadn’t seen any creatures but rabbits, squirrels, birds, cows, and horses. 

On heightened alert, I strained to hear any additional noise. Then I detected moving metal, as if someone or something tried to open the door latch. I breathed a small sigh of relief at the recognition that I had locked the door, but I awakened Bob to warn him about the would-be intruder. “Something’s trying to get in our trailer,” I said.

“Where are we?” he asked, a common question given our full-time RV life. It’s often difficult to keep track of where we are and where we’ve been. “At Norm’s,” I replied. 

“Who’s Norm?” he asked. I reminded him, and we quieted to listen for more sounds. Silence. Bob crawled out of bed and tiptoed toward the door. He peeled up the window blind and peeked out, seeing nothing. Maybe the gentle movement of the trailer had scared away whatever it was. 

Emboldened by Bob’s assessment, I peered out the window myself, seeing very little but darkness. We returned to bed and tried to identify what could have attempted to enter. A bear? Do they have bears in this area? A person? We were surrounded by farmland with friendly neighbors toward the end of a dirt road. It was unlikely that a person had tried to wander in. 

I assured Bob I had indeed heard the door latch move. Convinced the invader had moved on, we drifted back to sleep.

Critter calling card

The next morning, I opened the shade covering the window that overlooks our door and saw no signs of attempted entry. When I went outside, however, I discovered mud all over the stair railing. 

Then I noticed three fingerprints on the door and bare metal on the edge of the door latch. “I was right,” I told Bob. Something had indeed tried to get in. Norm saw the evidence and confirmed it had been a raccoon. I could only imagine the results if the door had not been locked and the critter had entered our rig. I’m glad that didn’t happen.

I left the prints on the door that night as a deterrent to other critters that might want to get in, and we had no disturbances. The next day, I washed away the marks. Thankfully, we had no encounters that night either — although we almost forgot to lock the door. I remembered an hour or so after we went to bed and quickly got up to secure the door. 

Earlier the night of the coon encounter, Bob had made steak and gravy for dinner, an amazing-smelling Cajun staple. The raccoon must have followed its nose to our rig, wanting to feast on any leftovers. 

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