Raccoon Rampage. Nadia Shireen

when their tree house was felled to make way for some apartments.

      “We lost everything. Plus humans are always fishing on our lake. That’s stealing too. They’ll be emptying it if we’re not too careful.”

      “It’s not empty,” argued Rocky.

      “Not yet,” agreed Sunshine. “Think of this job as our last one of the season. We nab a few fish from the back of the van before Max gets them into his freezer. The old boy will never notice. He’ll be happy that his freezer is full. And we’ll be happy that our winter stores are full.”

      “And our tummies,” beamed Dempsey, rubbing his furry belly.

      “Plus,” chipped in Quickpaw, “we can leave old Maxy-boy alone. He can have winter in peace, without us starving raccoons breaking and entering.”

      Rocky still didn’t look sure, but Quickpaw knew there wasn’t time to stand around persuading him. Yes, it was a risk. And yes, they had to be extra careful. And yes, it was their biggest heist ever. But as leader, he had responsibilities to the gang. And his chief responsibility was to keep them alive through the barren winter season. “All back here for midday sun,” he barked. “And guys,” he sniffed, “be careful out there.”

      Quickpaw and Dempsey worked as a pair. They’d already stolen Max’s washing line, a long string of freshly washed shirts, socks and pants trailing in the dust. They’d identified their next target, the hammock on Mr McCluskey’s porch. “It’s good and sturdy,” suggested Dempsey, “plus he’s only four doors from Max’s so there won’t be far to travel.” They approached the cabin, sniffing cautiously. Dempsey stood on his hind legs to get a better view of the hammock. They knew McCluskey had a dog and Quickpaw was keen to keep his bushy tail intact. Rocky was positioned on high, clinging to the top branch of an oak. Quickpaw’s words were ringing in his head – Being on lookout is a very responsible position. Lives depend on it. It was no wonder his tiny raccoon teeth were chattering.

      Rocky looked to his right and saw Quickpaw and Dempsey approaching the cabin. All seemed clear. He looked left and watched the fish van winding its way slowly along the road. “Right on cue,” he muttered. “Let the action begin.”

      Quickpaw went first, darting across the no-man’s-land of McCluskey’s garden and under the wooden veranda. He beckoned to Dempsey. So far so good, sighed Rocky from above. Now get that hammock. He needn’t have worried. Quickpaw had already made a start, gnawing at the rope that was holding the hammock up. Dempsey started at the opposite end, holding the rope in his tiny hands, his razor teeth chewing frantically. The raccoons were halfway through the ropes when the door creaked open and McCluskey appeared, a beer can in his hand. The raccoons scuttled out of the way while the rather large man stretched and supped the rest of his beer. He crumpled his empty can and threw it into the garden. Rocky heard the massive belch from his treetop-lookout position. Crikey!

      Quickpaw peered up at the man. No way, he thought as McCluskey moved towards the hammock. You can’t lie there. We need it for our project!

      McCluskey stood and scratched a while, contemplating how he would attack the hammock. Getting in was always a bit tricky. He decided that one big lunge would do it. Rocky gulped as he watched the man leap into his hammock. The half-chewed ropes snapped and McCluskey fell to the floor with a thump. “What the—” he began, climbing to his feet and examining the ropes. “Someone’s sabotaged my hammock!” Suspecting a practical joke by his son, Mr McCluskey stormed inside. Dempsey and Quickpaw heard furious yelling and a big slap as they leaped on to the porch and clutched the hammock in their tiny paws.

      Perfect, thought Rocky from on high. He glanced left and saw the fish van pulling up at Max’s store. The driver was getting out and going to see Max. To his right there were two raccoons sprinting for their lives, a hammock trailing behind and a line of clothes trailing even further.

      The Sunshine Cub had waited patiently. He’d burrowed underneath Max’s shop and his beady eyes shone with excitement. The keys, he sniffed. My mission is to get those keys. So, as the driver temporarily left his van, Sunshine was straight in. He dived through the open window and stared at the buttons and levers. Wow! he thought. Gadgets! This is so cool. He sniffed the fishy smell coming from the back of the van and it brought him to his senses. His little raccoon fingers clasped the key. He twisted. Nothing. It’s stuck. He could hear shouting from the McCluskeys’ house. He could see Max and the van driver chatting in the shop. Sunshine twisted again, pulling at the same time, and the keys came away in his paw. The light-fingered raccoon crept out of the driver’s window, leaped on to the windscreen and up on to the top of the van. He waved to Rocky in the lookout tree, the keys glinting in the sun. Now for the tricky bit. Sunshine shimmied down the opposite side of the van and clung on to the back door. His other hand fumbled for the key and tried to fit it into the lock.

      Rocky had seen enough. It wasn’t looking good. McCluskey and his son had spotted the missing hammock and were striding after the raccoons. From what he could see, McCluskey was waving a baseball bat and shouting some rather nasty things. Even worse, Max and the van driver had finished chatting and were making towards the van! I’d better go and help, he thought, his panic turning a downward climb into a fall.

      Quickpaw and Dempsey knew they didn’t have much time. They arrived at the van just as Sunshine had unlocked the back door and swung it open. “Ta-da,” he bragged, revealing more fish than the team had ever imagined. The hammock was laid flat and Quickpaw and Dempsey set to work. Quickpaw was inside the van, tossing fish out; Dempsey was catching them and laying them on the hammock. “Quickly, quickly,” shouted Rocky, panting after his run. “They’re coming! Too late,” he squealed as Max looked up and saw the team at work.

      “No way!” shouted the shopkeeper. “Pesky varmints stole my money and now they’re thieving my fish!”

      “And my new hammock!” yelled McCluskey, breaking into a trot.

      Rocky’s panic had gone into overdrive. He leaped up and down, his screeching loud enough to be heard by the whole town. The hammock was only half full, but they could wait no longer. Dempsey and Quickpaw tugged with their claws and started to drag their catch into the forest. A whole winter’s supply was heavy going!