The latest topic du jour at the world dilemma think tank is Dud Campbell’s trapline. It should be noted that no animals were harmed in the production. In fact, the “victims” of Dud’s trapline probably gained a pound or two during the ordeal.

It all began not long ago now when Mrs. Miller complained about having a raccoon come around at night and eating the cat food she’d left on the back porch for Sissy. After about five cups of coffee down at the Mule Barn, the elders there, aka the Supreme Court of Dang Near Everything, decided the ‘coon had to go, but nobody wanted to kill the thing just for wanting to eat cat food. So Dud said he’d take care of it.

About two weeks later, Dud invited the guys out to the parking lot to see what was in his pickup, and there was a ‘coon, hissing at the world through the steel mesh of a live trap.

“What did you use? Where did you put it? How long did it take to catch him? Are there more ‘coons in town? Where will you release him?”

And one by one the questions were answered. Oh, as the weeks went by, Dud had figured out the perfect bait to entice them into the trap. Oh yes, a delectable combination of peanut butter, marshmallows and sardines.

And it worked. Soon, Dud had two of these traps working, so that he could refer to it as the trapline and not just “the trap.” Sounded better. Before long, the score was quite impressive. Three ‘coons, one bobcat, a raven, one cocker spaniel, Sissy (who was released on her own recognizance into Mrs. Miller’s custody and was immediately placed under house arrest.), and a skunk.

“How’d you turn that skunk loose, Dud?” Doc asked.

“Very carefully,” was our resident trapper’s reply.

Brought to you by Ol’ Max Evans, the First Thousand Years, available at www.unmpress,com.

Comments are not available on this story.