Or he could have been. I guess it depends on who you ask.
That was the biggest concern facing us (and by 'us' I mean 'somebody-else-but-not-me') during our adventure into the mountains of Utah last weekend. The fearless raccoon that kept
frequenting our camp didn’t help alleviate fears of Bruce being viciously devoured by heartless beasts of the wild. To help illustrate the severity of the trepidation that was felt, I think we need to have a comparative chart.Unfortunately, we can't. Imagine a comparative chart here.
And there you have it. 110 pound, sharp toothed Bruce would clearly have no chance against the malevolence of the 8 pound, injured raccoon who we'll call The Spawn of Evil or Xanthar for short.
I have to give Xanthar credit for allowing us (and by 'us' I, unfortunately, mean 'us') the opportunity to share what we used to think was a fairly good sized tent with what we know is a fairly large sized Bruce. A four man tent is actually only a 1.5 man + 1 Bruce tent.
At home he’s perfectly content to sit in his kennel while we do whatever we want. In the tent, there was no kennel. Just camp chairs and a table sort of laid out like a very low fence in the corner. The most surprising part is that it worked! Except when Bruce didn’t want it to work
anymore. Then it didn’t. Well, it kind of still worked. He would go back behind his 4 inch barrier and wag his tail which would brush against all 5,285 sides of the tent making a loud ‘whish, whish’ sound that was very effective in keeping us awake.But at least he didn’t get eaten by the Tyrannosaurus Rex.
