The Garbage Monster from Outer Space. John R. Erickson

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      But you know what? It worked, and I mean worked like a charm. Not only had I shucked off the coon, but all of them were scampering away into the morning gloom. What a deal! I mean, sure, coons tend to disappear at the first light of day, but the main reason they were fleeing in terror was that they had just seen the Head of Ranch Security ram a huge tree and break it in half.

      No kidding, broke that tree completely in half, and we’re talking about a full-grown chinaberry with a trunk the size of telephone pole. Have I ever mentioned that my name in Coyote Language is “Mump-Wump-Hoosegow”? That means “Dog Who Breaks Trees in Half.” Yes siree, and that’s why all the coyotes on this outfit RUN when they see me coming.

      And so did those ruffian coons. You think they wanted to mess with a dog who tears down trees? Heck no. They ran, fellers, and we’re talking about running for their lives.

      I sent them packing with a withering barrage of barking. “And let that be a lesson to you, and the next time you mess around with Sally May’s gar­bage barrels, I’ll show you some serious tree trashing!”

      Pretty impressive, huh? You bet it was. I got ’em told, and then I turned and marched back to the barrels to, well, lay my mark on them and claim them as my own. When Sally May showed up, I wanted her to see, with her very own eyes, that I had recaptured her barrels and returned them to the ranch inventory.

      I was in the process of laying a good strong mark on one of the barrels when an odd sound reached my ears. They leaped to Full Alert Position, swiveled around, and homed in on the sound. It was a kind of buzzing noise, and it seemed to be coming from inside one of the . . .

      Hmmm, this was strange. A bee perhaps? I abandoned the Mark and Conquer procedure and peed into the barrel . . . peered into the barrel, I should say, and one little letter makes quite a difference, doesn’t it?

      Where was I? Oh yes, the barrel from which the . . . so forth. And there before my very eyes I saw . . . you won’t believe what I saw. I couldn’t believe it. I was astammered, dumbfoundered.

      There, lying on a collection of newspapers and various other items of trash was . . . you probably think it was the Garbage Monster from Outer Space, right? Nope. That comes later in the story. This time, what I discovered was a smallish sleeping raccoon, who was not only small but also asleep.

      And you know what else? It was none other than Eddy the Rac.

      Pretty amazing, huh? You bet it was.