Strangely enough, I was walking my bowel-challenged, elderly dog at the leading edge of dawn (anything to make things happen outside rather than in) when something about 2' long/tall lept off a neighbor’s roof, scampered down a two-story high T-111 wall (so, rough surfaced), hopped to the ground and rushed off into the shrubs, freaking me right the hell out.

It was too dark to tell what it was, but it sure moved like a monkey. And I would know, because the pesky beggers used to steal my drying unmentionables off my Indian apartment balcony and scamper off across the rooftops waving them in triumph. Effing frat boys.

Anyway, I asked around if Sanibel had monkeys or if there was an escaped pet monkey in the neighborhood. “Probably a raccoon,” is all I got. What do I know? Maybe Florida raccoons have wall-scaling super powers.

Come to think of it, the ice fishing hole is a bit like the Meddle cover. Big fan.