Just as I was about to take Bambi to bed, the phone rang. Our neighbours had been having raccoon trouble and had managed to trap the little critter in their garage. Would we like to come over for a quick look and help release it? Oh yes! Off we went with Bambi yodeling the theme tune to Go Diego Go.
And a cutie it was too. Clearly having a bad day though, tucked into the corner of its cage. And then its day got worse. Out of absolutely nowhere, a storm was brewing and as we drove our little bandit to its new home the lightening struck. Close. Very close. And the thunder rolled. Loudly. Very loudly.
Oh, and the heavens opened.
Unsurprisingly, one very wet raccoon decided to forgo all pleasantries and bolted for the bushes the second of its release. Fair enough.
And then I realised where we were - in a park some 500m from Bambi's school. The suburbs of northern Virginia are peppered with parks and it struck me that there must be quite a raccoon rotation going on with masked crusaders being passed around from neighbourhood to neighbourhood as they get caught raiding and released to discover menus anew somewhere else.
So that was my first real brush with American wildlife. Although did you know that you get black squirrels in this part of the world?!
And I'm still pregnant by the way...