I have a raccoon story.
I once lived on a lake. One day, broad daylight, I heard a dog "carrying on" like it didn't like being ******* or something. After many minutes I realized the dog was too frantic so I went outside to see what was up.
The yelping was coming from the lake side of the house so I went out on the dock to get a better look. The yelping was coming from a marshy area near the house, but I couldn't see anything.
I got into a row boat and rowed toward the sound. As I rounded an out cropping of marsh grass I saw a large dog floundering in the water and yelping. As I got closer I could see something on the dog's back and head. As I got even closer I could see that it was a racoon on the head of a german shepard, biting and clawing the dog
I got close enough I stood up in the row boat and poked the raccoon with an oar and he grabbed the oar hard with both paws, looked me in the eye and snarled at me. I pulled the oar out of raccoon's paws and wacked him once with the broad side of the oar. This did little to distract him from attacking the dog. Then I turned the oar on edge and hit the raccoon hard. He immediately got off the dog and dove into the water. The dog slinked out of the water and I never saw the raccoon again. I felt kinda bad for the raccoon because I was sure I had hit it hard enough to sever his spine with the edge of the oar. But at least I saved the poor dog.
The dog disappeared with a solid 12-15 minutes worth of scarring from that raccoon attack, and I rowed back home, and called the police to report a possible rabid raccoon. The policeman was a hunter, and explained to me that was normal raccoon behavior. They will lead an adversary to deep water where they have the advantage.
I'll never forget that day.