The coon started squalling as soon as we came in sight.
“My goodness,” Mama said, “you wouldn’t think anything so small would be so vicious.”
Papa picked up a club. “Now everybody stand back out of the way,” he said. “This won’t take long.”
My pups were wanting to get to the coon so badly that they were hard to hold.
I had to squeeze them up tight to keep them from jumping right out of my arms.
My sisters, with eyes as big as blue marbles, got behind Mama and peeked around her.
Papa whacked the coon a good one across the head. He let out a loud squall, growled, and showed his teeth.
He tried hard to get to Papa but the trap held him.
The girls buried their faces in Mama’s dress and started bawling.
Mama turned her back on the fight. I heard her say, “I wish we hadn’t come. Poor thing.”
Papa whacked him again and it was all over. It was too much for Mama and the girls.
They left. I heard the tall cane rattling as they ran for the house.
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