Over the summer, I read a newspaper article about a dead raccoon found on a sidewalk in Toronto who received its own candlelight vigil, flowers, and memorial. Not to mention, a hashtag and free press! You can read more about it here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/07/11/dead-raccoon-memorial_n_7776856.html
When my children were young, we used to drive down to Ohio to visit family. It was about a three hour drive. My children didn’t have video’s to watch nor video games at that time. Poor kids, right?
So to keep them
occupied we played the regular car games like ABC signs or State license
plates. Sometimes, though we played… Name that Roadkill. Some were easy to
recognize while others were just a guess. While it was a strange game, it did
keep two kids occupied and me sane for many trips.
But when I heard about the Toronto Raccoon, I was a little ticked. I had already decided on using the roadkill to make a statement. Most people don’t even pay attention to roadkill as they drive on the roads, but millions of animals’ lives are ended by cars. I thought that if we dressed them up, maybe painted their
toe-nails …it would make people take a second look and
Fast forward to writing Claiming a Cowboy’s Heart. I knew that I had to have my heroine do something this si
lly and c razy. Here’s a sneak
peek at the scene where we meet the heroine, Michelle Alt and shows the poor
With her floral shoulder bag hanging from her arm, Michelle
Alt approached the dead raccoon. The smell overwhelmed her. Pinching
her nose, she took deep breaths through her mouth. The full moon illuminated
the intersection across from her school. People should learn to drive slower
on this street. This time a raccoon, someday a child.
She squatted and dumped the contents of her purse on the asphalt. Removing the cheap dollar-store clothespin from her purse, she dealt with the smell and closed off her nose. The spring had just enough strength to press her nostrils together without hurting. With her hands free, she selected a yellow pair of sunglasses from inside her bag and slipped them on the raccoon’s face. A smile flitted across her lips.
“That’s a start.” Looking at the pile of junk sitting at her side, she removed a couple of more items, setting a red plastic cup with a paper umbrella next to the raccoon’s hand. Last, she inserted a small bottle of sunscreen between his arm and
body then cleaned up the remaining
materials, stuffing them into her bag.
It’s perfect. He looks like he’s resting in the sun. Another day at the beach for Mr. Raccoon.
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Claiming a Cowboy’s HeartMelissa Keir