Requiem for a Raccoon

The injured raccoon didn't escape back into its wild world entwined somehow with my urban landscape. It died sometime Saturday evening, I suppose, because when I opened my garage door on Sunday morning to retrieve my car, I was greeted by flies and the stench of rotting flesh. The raccoon had somehow crawled under my above-ground garage and succumbed to its injuries. I can only hope that it was not a prolonged and painful death.