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The raccoons were at it again night before last. See this post for more. Rummaging around the yard, picking fruit off the trees, snacking on dogfood, bathing in the swimming pool. Pooping on the patio. The usual raccoon stuff.

If they are gonna dine at my place, the least they could do would be to leave their turds on the grass alongside all the unscooped Labrador poops.

I pride myself on being able to sleep through most anything. Earthquakes. Baby cries. That sound one makes as they are sprinting to the toilet with food poisoning. Police helicopters overhead. My own gas. Raccoons banging on the patio slider.

Years of practice have fine-tuned my tune-out ability, which also includes knowing which sound(s) need immediate attention. Such is the panicky tone when my relatively reasonable spouse is awakened by large rodents. (I know raccoons are not rodents at all, but at 3:30am, staring through the window into the darkness: anything not a dog is a rodent). She inflects my name in such a way as to convey that her internal fear monster is about to irrationally pummel her husband to goo if he doesn’t DO SOMETHING. NOW.

Our usual routine is to get to bed somewhere around 11:00pm, and I typically get up at 5ish. Six hours sleep is not too bad for me. But the masked critters’ 3:30 visits are reducing my sleep time by an hour and a half. Not good. Especially not good if papa is cutting out nookie just so he can get the extra half hour (an hour on a good night;) ) of needed rest.

Time for action, if there is going to be time for action.

The next morning, after she got to sleep in, I asked the lovely and accommodating Postmistress to give the local animal shelter a call, just to see if they would come out and deal with the unwanted guests. I figured they would just come out and trap the critters and haul them away somewhere.

The first guy she talks to at the City says, “Yep they are a problem lately. Most of ‘em carry rabies, too. If I was you I would trap them and release them somewhere else. Sorry, but the City can’t come out to do anything for ya. We are way too understaffed to be dealing with wild animals. Good luck.”

Rodents with rabies! She is on the warpath now.

Next call is to the ASPCA. They would be happy to come out and haul off the bandidtos, except that we live within the City limits. Different story if we lived in the neighboring town or in the county. “Well what would you suggest we do?” my wife asks. “Euthanize ‘em. Trap them and kill them. Don’t just drop those guys off at the city limits and make them someone else’s problem.” Says the nice animal guy at the ASPCA. ” And once they figure out that there is food somewhere: good luck keeping them away. They will keep coming back.”

“Kill ‘em” seemed a bit extreme to my gentle wife, so she calls the local animal people back and gets a different person this time. Her advice was just as precious as the “Kill ‘em” guy’s was.  She was, shall we say delicately: earthy in her approach to uninvited masked guests.

“Leave those poor creatures alone! Don’t you know that you are living in their habitat?!” was the animal lady’s opening salvo.

My wife calmly replies, “Sure they are cute and all, but a raccoon ripped the face off of our friends’ small dog. I just don’t think I want to risk my dogs or children’s smooth complexion. Besides, they carry rabies and I saw what happened to Old Yeller “.

“Ma’am”. ” May I remind you that you are a guest in those raccoons’ environment?” You just need to learn to live with them. They won’t do you any harm if you will just stay out of their way. Try to remove those things that are attracting them to your yard.”

Well, that sounds reasonable, except for a few little details. “How about the pool parties they have most nights? Would it be best for them if we kept the jacuzzi heated, too?”

“Ma’am.” “You must cover your pool.” “It is as simple as that. Covering your pool will keep them away.”

“Riiiiiight . . . Mr. El Cheapo husband is going to invest several thousand dollars into raccoon-proofing our pool . . .”

“What about my vegetables and herbs? They seem to be attracted to those, too.”

“Ma’am.” “I SAID:” “Remove everything that might be drawing the raccoons into your yard and that includes fruits and vegetables. Make them inaccessible to the animals or remove them from your yard.”

“So I am to construct a mesh cage around most of the plants in my yard. How attractive to make my yard look like a prison. And that makes it so handy to pick my tomatoes as they ripen. Seriously, I can’t imagine that the expense of all this fencing could justify the savings of growing our own veggies. Does the animal shelter also sell Concertina wire?”

“Ma’am.” “Ma’am.” “You are not to do anything to relocate or harm those creatures or otherwise modify their behavior. If you will just take away any reason for them to visit your yard, eventually they will leave you alone.”

“You mentioned our fruit trees.”

“Ma’am.” “Of course you can’t have any fruit around your house. Many animals are drawn to ripening fruit. You must pick it all before it ripens. Then the raccoons won’t have reason to come near.”

“So let me get this straight . . . In order for me to deal naturally with this problem, I must: A) Keep our dogs locked inside:. B) Not let our kids play in the backyard: C) Buy an expensive pool cover:D) Enclose our edible plants in steel cages: E) Not allow our oranges, limes, avocados, peaches and blackberries to ripen into edible food. Is that what you are suggesting I do to keep this family of raccoons out of our yard?”

“Ma’am.” “This is no laughing matter.” “It is not as bad as you are trying to make it out to be. It is your responsibility to treat those innocent animals properly. You cannot trap them in cages. We will not accept wild animals here at the Shelter.”

“Does the Animal Shelter also rent out small bulldozers?”

“Ma’am.” “Of course we do not want you to destroy any plants! Just take the proper precautions and wild animals will not venture into your yard. It really is quite simple.” “Ma’am.”  ” And remember: the Animal Shelter does not accept wild animals. You must deal with this humanely.”

“Did I mention that the ASPCA guy said that we should euthanize them?”

“MA’AAAAAAAAAM.”  “You CANNOT DO such a thing!”  “Ma’am”. “If you will just do everything I have told you to do then the little raccoons will not bother you. They will have no reason to come into your yard. It really is very simple and there should be no reason to resort to harming them.”

“So your suggestion is to make them someone else’s problem, then.”

“Ma’am.” “That is not at all what I meant! These are natural creatures and we all need to remember that we are living within their environment. We need to work with them to modify their behavior so that we can all get along.”

“Soooo . . . Will you guarantee that, if we implement all the measures you suggested, we will never have raccoons in our yard?”

“Ma’am.” “Of course I cannot guarantee any such thing. These are wild animals we are talking about here. They are curious creatures, and it would be in their nature to want to explore everywhere that might have food. The backyards of humans is a likely place in their minds. Of course they will want to exercise their natural curiosity. Of course they will continue to forage for food.”

“Sounds to me like we just went in a big circle. You are telling me to expend great effort for a solution that, at best will transfer my problem to another family, and at worst not work at all.”

“I think I will tell my husband that you agree with the Kill ‘em guy over at the ASPCA. He will take care of it from there.”

“Ma’am.” “Aaaaarrrrgh.”  CLICK.

And the Shelter lady hung up.

Whew! Sorry it took me so long to get to my question. This was just tooooo juicy. And it really happened (basically) the way I recounted it.

So I am interested in YOUR opinion: How should I handle my little “situation”?

Do I go with the nuclear option or the earthy option? Or maybe there is a compromise?

I am interested to hear from you: I don’t care whether you have real experience with ‘coons or if you have never seen one before in your life. Just tell me what you think I should do to get my nights back.

Blessings

Technorati Tags: fun stuff, marriage, raising kids

I just read Dereck Semmler’s most recent article, “Men are Wimps…” at his blog The Man Page and instantly flashed back to a time early in our marriage when we actually caught someone robbing our house. Well, we didn’t catch him in the house. . . I had to give chase for a bit.  Let’s just say right off that my wife was thoroughly unimpressed.

On a Sunday afternoon, returning home from our final Lamaze class we pulled into the garage of our little 2-story condo. I didn’t remember leaving the door into the kitchen propped open. And funny how the shadow of a miniblind is playing on the wall, though the wind is not blowing at all. Curious. I don’t remember leaving my television set on the kitchen floor . . .

BAH- WHAAMMMMM ! ! !  Before the concept could gell in my mind, I simply reacted.

I flew out of the car, barely throwing it into Park as the realization engulfed me that someone  was in my house stealing my stuff. Questioning my own sanity, but being propelled uncontrollably ahead by Lord-knows-what and testosterone laced adrenaline I grabbed the first substantial looking thing I saw. A clothes iron.

Leaving our superhero suspended mid-stride for a moment, let me tell you everything that flashed in my mind at the very moment I picked up that iron: “OK this is good it’s heavy and could deflect bullets can’t find a butcher knife besides they’re all dull anyway  hope the neighbor guy is home I could use some backup call 911 ! this thing could work like a shield i could throw it at him and run God I am stupid banished to the couch forever  what do I do with him if I find him I’ll probably trip over the cord  why can’t I stop myself Our Father who art in heaven… he’s more afraid than I am HERE WE GOOOOoooo ! “

So I did it- I searched the house, room to room, holding the iron in front of me. (I didn’t even wet my pants, and yes I did check). I am soo thankful that my wife stayed outside for that spectacle. The video would have won the $10,000 prize for sure: Skinny macho guy holding a trembling iron at arm’s length and swinging it back and forth like you see the cops do when they sweep a room. I was so pumped up I can’t remember if I even said anything out loud.  It didn’t take me long to figure out that the would-be thief made a hasty escape by diving out the dining room window when he heard the garage door go up. This explains the miniblinds moving around when we pulled into the garage. He left broken glass and a little blood behind as a memento.

You would think someone in this situation would be relieved as soon as they figured out that the intruder was gone. You would think that a sane person would just thank God that nobody got hurt. You would think.

In the meantime, my very panicked and very 8 1/2 months pregnant wife was trying to convince the neighbor guy to “get over there and help my husband out”. Not a chance. This wimp just stood at the window and looked out. He offered to let her use the phone to call the police, though.

Coming down from my adrenaline high, I went back outside to find my wife. And was I thankful for that big belly, which was the only thing separating me from a real stressed-out-wife thrashing. I reassured her that everything was fine, and I could easily repair the window. Arm in arm, we walked into the scene of the crime to assess if anything was missing. The intruder had piled a bunch of our stuff in the garage with the intent of using our other car as the getaway vehicle. He was searching for the car keys when we startled him and he dove out the window.

You would think this would be the end of the affair: Just file a police report, get on with life, and adjust to sleeping on the couch. Remember what I said about sanity? Sanity had not fully returned to my feeble mind yet.

The thought that someone had violated our space was eating at me. At the same time I was contemplating the crime and wondering about the humanity of such a person. It dawned on me that he was going to steal our car, which meant that he likely didn’t drive to our house, which meant HE IS ON FOOT!. A hasty plan was formed in my mind and I did not wait for validation from my poor wife. I set out on a walkabout of the condo neighborhood sans iron.

Yes, you read me right. I couldn’t leave well enough alone. I had the audacity to believe I might actually see the culprit just wandering around the complex and that I would somehow be able to identify him. Stupid, I know. Pride makes men do the darndest things, and my pride had been pricked by this invasion of our privacy.

As it turns out I did find the guy and he was carrying someone else’s TV and VCR in his arms. (And I simplify the story here as it gets complex). He told me he couldn’t remember where his car was parked and wondered if I would hold his stuff while he looked for his car. He set the electronics down by a tree and I gave chase. The cops finally showed up by this point (hours after the crime) and witnessed our little chase scene. They caught up with him in a cruiser and arrested him. Physical evidence tied him to several burglaries and he got a 1 year sentence in county jail.

Derek, thanks for bringing back a memory I had suppressed so well. Good times.

Technorati Tags: fun stuff, Stupidity

My first blog post was, in my humble estimation, a work of profundity and wit. It appears the ethereal goblins of electronic humor did not agree with me and have filed my first through fourth posts in their bottomless file-13. After many hours of wrestling with Wordpress, I just gave up and reloaded the upgrade. Of course I had not figured out how to perform backups, so SOL, tough luck, buck up and start over again…A tough taskmaster experience is.
Hopefully writing and publishing will get easier as time goes on. I guess I will just try to reconstruct this thing and get busy blogging soon!