Of course our neighbours were curious about our coon warfare. One rather resourceful neighbour, who happened to be pushing his grandchild in a stroller down the sidewalk in front of our house, asked me how it was going.
I told him we were winning.
“You know what I do?” he said.
He drew his thumb across his throat and made a croaking sound.
“Smear a puck of nicotine with butter. They eat that. They are gone. Twenty-four dollars.”
I was in the presence of Robin Hood. I expressed my admiration.
(to be continued)