Urban wildlife keeps us hopping

The wildlife around here is getting out of hand. Last night, in my backyard, I saw a raccoon the size of a Great Dane.

Well, not really, but I’ve got your attention and we’ll go from there. He was a big one, maybe 20 pounds. I had gone outside to put trash in our barrel and there he sat, on the lid, staring at me with disdain. I stood 15 feet away, staring back at him, until he jumped down and waddled away. Since I was basically delivering his dinner, I suppose he figured messing with a big bald house ape was counterproductive.

Having grown up in Dorchester, I’m familiar with your run-ofthe-mill urban animals. We had the basic assortment — squirrels, mice, possum, skunks. Since our neighborhood was near the Neponset River, we also had the occasional snapping turtle or muskrat. My favorites, though, were the rock doves.

They came in the usual shades of gray, with touches of purple or blue, while a few rare ones were white or (my favorite) brown. My parents admired St. Francis of Assissi and his kindness to animals, so I was taught early on to feed them.

Of course, lots of people think that’s a terrible idea since they hate rock doves. Rock doves are also called pigeons — which are also called rats with wings — but I think that’s unfair. Pigeons are intelligent birds. For instance, it’s near impossible to hit a pigeon with your car. They wait until the last minute to fly away, but they always do.

Wild turkeys, on the other hand, are incredibly stupid. They’ll walk in front of your car and stop for no apparent reason. Honk the horn, rev the engine, inch closer — they don’t care. We never used to see turkeys in the city, but now you see them everywhere. They haven’t become as common as pigeons, thank God, but they’re no longer such a surprise that you feel a need to gawk at them. Now you just want them to get the hell out of your way.

The recent addition to urban wildlife I truly enjoy are rabbits.

The first time I saw a rabbit in our yard was about five years ago. It was such a surprise that I called to my wife to come for a look. We stood staring at the bunny nibbling on our lawn for almost five minutes because we thought it was unlikely we’d see one again for a long time. Little did we know.

Rabbits have become so commonplace in Watertown, I don’t even stop on my way to our car if I see one in the yard. I just say, “Hi, bun. How’s it goin’?”

Bunnies, of course, do not answer — and that’s one of the things I like about them. They make no noise at all. If they barked, I’d probably not be as enamored. And they also tend not to get in the way if you’re trying to get someplace.

I think that’s a good lesson for all of us. If you’re quiet, and don’t get in the way of folks trying to get somewhere and be productive, the less that people will resent having you around. It would be nice if some of our friends in Washington were more like bunnies and less like turkeys, but I’m not holding my breath.

It would be nice if some of our friends in Washington were more like bunnies, less like turkeys, but I’m not holding my breath.