“The Montauk Monster is part of a large and disreputable family that lives nocturnal lives in the Shad bushes growing on the dunes that slope down to the Atlantic beaches along the south banks of the Old Montauk Highway between the Hither Hills and the flat stretch before town.
“My house, known by Pink Tuna taxi drivers as The Yellow Bucket House, is situated on the shoulder of a dune overlooking the ocean about 92 feet above sea level, and on the slope between the house and the toe of the dune are mostly small firs and white oaks and the Shads, which can grow to about 30 feet tall. Each Shad bush sends out countless long stalks of wiry tendrils, and when many Shads get together and hug, the underbrush gets entwined and thick, and darkly shady, and it’s hard for dogs, big cats and humans to poke into.
Poison Ivy Guards Monster Dwellings
“To cut a serious path into the Shad with a sharp machete takes hours of muscular whacks and slashes. In summer, the world’s meanest poison ivy is plushy purple and green and greasy with urushiol oil that glistens on its three-leaf clusters. When the tough vines are sliced and its leaves are shred, poison ivy sprays and splashes itchy agony everywhere the sword arcs.
“Naturally, Montauk Monsters know where to hide, and where they hide is deep inside the Shad thickets.
“Naturally, Montauk Monsters know where to hide, and where they hide is deep inside the Shad thickets.
“The moral of this tale is: When in Montauk, stick to the old beach paths and stay out of the Shad, particularly at night.”
The letter is signed: Ben Luck, co-founder and chairman of the Montauk Monster Trust, a non-profit organization “dedicated to the spirit of Montauk Monsters everywhere.”
There’s a long P.S.:
“Old Algonquin storytellers tell the following story:
“The eternal guardians of the Shad are the black rat snakes. They grow up to eight feet long and as big around as your forearm. They are constrictors and have no venom but one annoying habit they do have is to snuggle up tight at night against a warm human thigh or buttocks, with no bad intentions, mind you.
The letter is signed: Ben Luck, co-founder and chairman of the Montauk Monster Trust, a non-profit organization “dedicated to the spirit of Montauk Monsters everywhere.”
There’s a long P.S.:
“Old Algonquin storytellers tell the following story:
“The eternal guardians of the Shad are the black rat snakes. They grow up to eight feet long and as big around as your forearm. They are constrictors and have no venom but one annoying habit they do have is to snuggle up tight at night against a warm human thigh or buttocks, with no bad intentions, mind you.
The Black Snake, a.k.a., Rat Snake or Pilot Snake
“However, some folks tend to find the black rat snake’s attentions unwanted. But black snakes are not too intelligent, and like some house guests they don’t notice when they are unwelcome. At night, ‘round the bonfire, it is wise to sit toward the surf and away from the beach grasses and the driftwood logs. Blacksnakes don’t like to cross open sand.
“Other denizens of the Shad include the local brown coneys, who are rabbits, small dens of red foxes, a feral cat or two, battalions of little mice and a few dune rats, white tail deer by the hundreds, fewer frogs than once upon a time (and thus fewer princes, too), and also the Montauk raccoons, who are a lot more clever and civilized than almost anyone new to Long Island gives them credit for.
“In fact, raccoons are shy, clean, astonishingly smart mammals, and their social systems and behaviors are remarkably like that of the young men and women who come to live in Montauk each summer. The following is what enthnologists who contribute to Wikipedia say about the kind of raccoons who live along the Montauk coast. How do their descriptions coincide with true life among Montauk’s summer people?
Quote: ‘Related females often live in a so-called fission-fusion society, that is, they share a common area and occasionally meet at feeding or resting grounds.
“Other denizens of the Shad include the local brown coneys, who are rabbits, small dens of red foxes, a feral cat or two, battalions of little mice and a few dune rats, white tail deer by the hundreds, fewer frogs than once upon a time (and thus fewer princes, too), and also the Montauk raccoons, who are a lot more clever and civilized than almost anyone new to Long Island gives them credit for.
“In fact, raccoons are shy, clean, astonishingly smart mammals, and their social systems and behaviors are remarkably like that of the young men and women who come to live in Montauk each summer. The following is what enthnologists who contribute to Wikipedia say about the kind of raccoons who live along the Montauk coast. How do their descriptions coincide with true life among Montauk’s summer people?
Quote: ‘Related females often live in a so-called fission-fusion society, that is, they share a common area and occasionally meet at feeding or resting grounds.
“ ‘Unrelated males often form loose male social groups to maintain their position against foreign males during the mating season or other potential invaders. Such a group does not usually consist of more than four individuals. Since some males show aggressive behavior towards unrelated kits, mothers will isolate themselves from other raccoons until their kits are big enough to defend themselves.
“ ‘With respect to these three different modes of life prevalent among raccoons, Hohmann calls their social structure a three class society. Samuel I. Zeveloff, professor of zoology at Weber State University in Utah and author of the book Raccoons: A Natural History is more cautious in his interpretation and concludes that at least the females are solitary most of the time and, according to Erik K. Fritzell's study in North Dakota in 1978, males in areas with low population densities are as well.’”
A Solitary Montauk Raccoon at Dawn in a Fir Tree at the Yellow Bucket House “Raccoons also have very long memories. (They can remember how to open a complicated lock nearly three years after first learning to). They have a super-hyper-sensitive forepaws that can feel the heartbeat of an oyster through its shell with nerve-stuffed fleshy fingers, without a thumb, that work best when wet.
“Raccoons stand up on their hind legs and can reach and delicately examine something with their paws that is more than three feet high. They can plot, climb, think ahead, repair Swiss watches, and when they are lonely, which being solitary sometimes encourages, they can feel on their palms the gentle tingle that starlight makes when you put your palms up to the night sky.
Some scientists say the Algonquin Indians (who called the creatures something that sounded to the Dutch ear like raccoon) thought of the black-masked raccoons as demi-gods who were immensely talented with their fingers. Most geneticists think that raccoons are small, long-tailed bears.
A certain disreputable raccoon family is known to hang about the oaks and fir trees at the Yellow Bucket House. If they can sneak past the canine sentries of Homer, Harry and Polly, they capture the flag and are welcome, even in the outdoor shower garden. The raccoon family comes around always at night, they eat and romp until dawn, and then they high-tail it across the highway and disappear back into the Shad and the tangles of limbs and vines that they call home.
“The raccoon grapevine confirms that The Montauk Monster, whose water-logged and decomposed corpse was discovered bound execution style just a thousand yards toward town from the Yellow Bucket beach, was actually a notorious local raccoon named Romeo Rick, who was assassinated by the Brooklyn mob for many complicated reasons.
“Montauk’s notorious raccoon families are not insulted or upset that Romeo Rick’s body has caused a worldwide shudder. The slander about Romeo being a mutant escapee from the Plum Island secret laboratories delights the raccoon intelligencia. The raccoons figure that if enough people are terrified that Montauk Monsters live in the local Shad, there will be increased solitude for all Montauk raccoons ~ and the blessings of unintended consequences.”
“Raccoons stand up on their hind legs and can reach and delicately examine something with their paws that is more than three feet high. They can plot, climb, think ahead, repair Swiss watches, and when they are lonely, which being solitary sometimes encourages, they can feel on their palms the gentle tingle that starlight makes when you put your palms up to the night sky.
Some scientists say the Algonquin Indians (who called the creatures something that sounded to the Dutch ear like raccoon) thought of the black-masked raccoons as demi-gods who were immensely talented with their fingers. Most geneticists think that raccoons are small, long-tailed bears.
A certain disreputable raccoon family is known to hang about the oaks and fir trees at the Yellow Bucket House. If they can sneak past the canine sentries of Homer, Harry and Polly, they capture the flag and are welcome, even in the outdoor shower garden. The raccoon family comes around always at night, they eat and romp until dawn, and then they high-tail it across the highway and disappear back into the Shad and the tangles of limbs and vines that they call home.
“The raccoon grapevine confirms that The Montauk Monster, whose water-logged and decomposed corpse was discovered bound execution style just a thousand yards toward town from the Yellow Bucket beach, was actually a notorious local raccoon named Romeo Rick, who was assassinated by the Brooklyn mob for many complicated reasons.
“Montauk’s notorious raccoon families are not insulted or upset that Romeo Rick’s body has caused a worldwide shudder. The slander about Romeo being a mutant escapee from the Plum Island secret laboratories delights the raccoon intelligencia. The raccoons figure that if enough people are terrified that Montauk Monsters live in the local Shad, there will be increased solitude for all Montauk raccoons ~ and the blessings of unintended consequences.”
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