Campsite Bandit

Many years ago, I crawled out of my tent to the sounds of chirping birds, glanced around the campsite, and discovered a raccoon had visited in the night.

Among much evidence of the culprit’s identity, the most telling piece proved to be the adorable paw print left on top of a soft cooler.

I remembered telling myself, like Marcia Brady after a kiss from Monkee Davy Jones,  “I’ll never wash that away!

Cleaning the cooler yesterday from last weekend’s camping trip, I noticed the paw print still there — faint, but fully intact.

Sadly, I’m still also finding my campsite raided after all these years when I camp with friends who don’t heed the warning of animals. “There are no bears here!” they scoff.

True, but birds like Avocado Toast too.


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