D.O.P.-T.

[weofodthignen]

One evening last week, while temps were still springlike, I heard a loud, ululating, hissing shrieking coming from the street. Still in my nightie and with my hair down, I slipped out the front door to determine whether it was unusually sustained cat copulation or mortal agony. As it continued, I was joined by a lady from another house, in smart sweater and slacks; we both peered at the bottom of the cursed house, where the sound seemed to be coming from, until it finally quit. I now think it was raccoons again. There's a gap under the house and I guess it's large enough, or maybe they were under the steps up to the front (side) door.