He laughed and said, “Well, you can’t ever tell. You may catch one.”
The next morning I was up with the chickens. I took my pups with me as I just knew I’d have a big ringtail trapped and I wanted them to see it.
I was a disappointed boy when I peeked out of a canebrake at my last trap and didn’t see a coon.
All the way home I tried to figure out what I had done wrong.
I went to Papa. He put his thinking cap on and thought the situation over.
“Maybe you left too much scent around when you made those traps,” he said.
“If you did, it’ll take a while for it to go away. Now I wouldn’t get too impatient.
I’m pretty sure you’ll catch one sooner or later.”
Papa’s words perked me up just like air does a deflated inner tube.
He was right. I had simply left too much scent around my traps.
All I had to do was wait until it disappeared and I’d have my coon hide.
Morning after morning it was the same old disappointment; no coon.
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