...sat our former house at the end of a cul-de-sac. Behind the house was a nasty retention pond, a woodsy-like area, and on either side lived our neighbors. This would not have been considered a country setting, by any means. In this same house, we had a glassed in sun porch, in which our two dogs, Rufus and Rorie dined. I spent a lot of time out there myself, drinking coffee, reading the newspaper and trying to hide from my kids and responsibilities.
One early morning, my husband came home from working a 12 hour shift as a sheriff's deputy. When he works nights, he usually crawls into the house, bleary-eyed, his clothes and gun belt are removed and he drops into the bed, fast asleep within 30...maybe 45 seconds. I am usually getting up just about that time. Afterwards, I go and pour my coffee and retreat to the back porch to wake up before I have to deal with getting the kids ready, fed and to their respective places. I *need* this time. I must have this time.
This particular morning, I let the dogs out, went to make my coffee and heard the most horrible growling sounds. Terrible fighting sounds, things getting knocked over, more growling and fighting and snarling.
OH NO!...what in the world is going on?? I ran back to the sliding glass doors that lead out to the porch and saw my dogs fighting with a couple of raccoons on the back porch. 'Coons...if they are big enough, will kill a dog. Their claws and teeth are razor sharp, and they are very strong. My little Napoleon dogs, not the avid Animal Planet watchers that I am, were unaware of that fact and were protecting their turf.
By this time, the girls had gotten up, and we somehow managed to get the dogs back into the house, but the two 'coons that we saw were trapped out on the back porch. Great.
[actual 'coon on our back porch, different day]
I gently walked into our bedroom, and very softly tapped my husband on the shoulder and said, "YOU HAVE TO GET UP! THERE ARE RACCOONS TRAPPED ON THE BACK PORCH AND THEY JUST TRIED TO KILL THE DOGS!"
My motivation was simple...one, I did need to be able to let the dogs out so they wouldn't poop on my floors. Two, I still hadn't had my coffee.
He jumps up, scared half to death, but still out of it. I repeat my dire message. Maybe with a little more intensity.
*sigh*..."%$#...FINE...I will go take care of the raccoons." With that, he stomps out of the bedroom.
He walked past the sliding glass doors and straight out to the garage. It is at this time, that I notice...he is only wearing underwear. Hmm...he seems kinda pissy, maybe I better leave this one alone. But, again..why is he going to deal with a potentially vicious animal wearing only underwear? I'm just sayin'.
He grabs the two dog crates that were being stored in the garage and proceeds to the back porch.
He grabs the two dog crates that were being stored in the garage and proceeds to the back porch.
There were two small raccoons that had been "treed" on the wood post that separates the windows, and another one that had enclosed itself inside of the roll away plastic dog food bin. Three raccoons. Awesome.
He immediately went for one of the little raccoons that had treed itself on the window. It was a quick grab, he had it by its neck and it was in dog crate #1 before it even knew what happened.
He immediately went for one of the little raccoons that had treed itself on the window. It was a quick grab, he had it by its neck and it was in dog crate #1 before it even knew what happened.
It scratched him up a bit, so he asked for his rawhide gloves. I quickly found them, and opened the door a hair and threw them to him. I sat back down in one of the kitchen chairs that I had dragged in front of the glass doors to continue watching "the show", while I drank my coffee.
He decided to go for the raccoon in the dog food bin, as the other one on the post, seeing what had happened to his brother Ricky, went ballistic and began growling and hissing at him. He opened the dog food bin...and slammed it shut as fast as he could! I think he may have even said another bad word.
Meanwhile, the girls, who normally can't get themselves ready in under an hour on any other given school day, have miraculously gotten themselves dressed, ready and were seated beside me watching Lloyd wrassle the 'coons.
I yelled through the glass doors..."what's wrong??". I could see him taking deep breaths, he said that there were TWO raccoons in the bin and one was the size of Rufus, (the bigger of our two dogs). lol...that would be Momma 'coon. FOUR raccoons.
Now, keep in mind, he is only wearing a pair of underwear, and Rawhide gloves. He then yelled for me to bring him a pair of shorts. Maybe the beansNfrank needed some protection? I obliged and threw those out to him. He took another deep breath and threw the bin open, kicked it over, spilling out 40lbs of dog food, one juvenile 'coon and its' Momma.
She immediately went after him as he tried to capture her baby. There he was, hooping and hollering, knocking over end tables and chairs trying to chase this thing down. He did manage to get the second one, opened up the dog crate and tossed it in with its' brother Ricky.
At this time, I felt it might be beneficial to suggest some boots. I reminded him that raccoons are known rabies carries. Truthfully, I have no idea, but it seems logical. He asked me to get his work boots, and I threw those out the door as well. Still...he is not wearing a shirt. If it was me, I would want to be covered in chainmail. Actually, if it was me, I would have just opened the door to the backyard from the other side of the porch and let them leave at their leisure.
Momma has now treed herself next to her remaining baby. They were both growling and hissing at him and the sound was horrible. They were seriously pissed.
For whatever reason, he unwisely chose to grab Momma. She was no small raccoon like the others. She started lunging at him the second he came near her, teeth gnashing, snapping, howling, she was reaaaddyy to ruuummmbbbllee.
He grabbed her around her neck...she twisted and grabbed his wrists with her paws and hung on for dear life. Despite the fact that he was nearly choking her, she managed to growl, hiss, snarl, and spit at him. She thrashed her body from side to side; jerking herself up and down, twisting her head side to side, biting and chewing at his gloves. He may have "had" her...but she still had a great deal of control.
For 15 minutes, he danced around the porch with this large raccoon. He tripped over furniture, slid on dog food and finally, he managed to get her inside of Cage #2. The girls and I were laughing so hard at this sight, we nearly peed our pants. Just then I had a thought...
huh. this would probably be a bad time to tell him that *that* particular cage was broken. The bolt holding it down on one side is missing. Ah well, I am sure that she won't be able to...oh crap!!!
Just as he had grabbed 'coon #4...HULKASAURUS Momma coon stood up, breaking the remaining bolt, 'Roooooowwwwwwwwwwrrrrrrrrrrrrr', throwing the top half of the dog crate aside. She jumped nearly 3 feet in the air, and in a move I have only seen in the The Matrix, she suspended herself in midair before twisting her body sideways and lunging at my husband. My mouth...hung open...
He decided to go for the raccoon in the dog food bin, as the other one on the post, seeing what had happened to his brother Ricky, went ballistic and began growling and hissing at him. He opened the dog food bin...and slammed it shut as fast as he could! I think he may have even said another bad word.
Meanwhile, the girls, who normally can't get themselves ready in under an hour on any other given school day, have miraculously gotten themselves dressed, ready and were seated beside me watching Lloyd wrassle the 'coons.
I yelled through the glass doors..."what's wrong??". I could see him taking deep breaths, he said that there were TWO raccoons in the bin and one was the size of Rufus, (the bigger of our two dogs). lol...that would be Momma 'coon. FOUR raccoons.
Now, keep in mind, he is only wearing a pair of underwear, and Rawhide gloves. He then yelled for me to bring him a pair of shorts. Maybe the beansNfrank needed some protection? I obliged and threw those out to him. He took another deep breath and threw the bin open, kicked it over, spilling out 40lbs of dog food, one juvenile 'coon and its' Momma.
She immediately went after him as he tried to capture her baby. There he was, hooping and hollering, knocking over end tables and chairs trying to chase this thing down. He did manage to get the second one, opened up the dog crate and tossed it in with its' brother Ricky.
At this time, I felt it might be beneficial to suggest some boots. I reminded him that raccoons are known rabies carries. Truthfully, I have no idea, but it seems logical. He asked me to get his work boots, and I threw those out the door as well. Still...he is not wearing a shirt. If it was me, I would want to be covered in chainmail. Actually, if it was me, I would have just opened the door to the backyard from the other side of the porch and let them leave at their leisure.
Momma has now treed herself next to her remaining baby. They were both growling and hissing at him and the sound was horrible. They were seriously pissed.
For whatever reason, he unwisely chose to grab Momma. She was no small raccoon like the others. She started lunging at him the second he came near her, teeth gnashing, snapping, howling, she was reaaaddyy to ruuummmbbbllee.
He grabbed her around her neck...she twisted and grabbed his wrists with her paws and hung on for dear life. Despite the fact that he was nearly choking her, she managed to growl, hiss, snarl, and spit at him. She thrashed her body from side to side; jerking herself up and down, twisting her head side to side, biting and chewing at his gloves. He may have "had" her...but she still had a great deal of control.
For 15 minutes, he danced around the porch with this large raccoon. He tripped over furniture, slid on dog food and finally, he managed to get her inside of Cage #2. The girls and I were laughing so hard at this sight, we nearly peed our pants. Just then I had a thought...
huh. this would probably be a bad time to tell him that *that* particular cage was broken. The bolt holding it down on one side is missing. Ah well, I am sure that she won't be able to...oh crap!!!
Just as he had grabbed 'coon #4...HULKASAURUS Momma coon stood up, breaking the remaining bolt, 'Roooooowwwwwwwwwwrrrrrrrrrrrrr', throwing the top half of the dog crate aside. She jumped nearly 3 feet in the air, and in a move I have only seen in the The Matrix, she suspended herself in midair before twisting her body sideways and lunging at my husband. My mouth...hung open...
My husband is a large man. I have never seen him cry, and although he can be a titty baby about being sick, I know that is all for show, he just wants the attention. In truth, you could probably stab him, shoot him, or otherwise maim him in some way and he will barely flinch. All in all, he's a pretty tough guy.
But I say this, and not necessarily for getting back at him because of the suppository thing....
...he screamed like a little girl when he saw that raccoon coming after him! Aaaaahhhhhhh!
He dropped the other baby and ran for his life around that porch. It was clear that it was her intention to inflict great bodily harm upon him. Around and around the porch they ran, I don't know how many times. (Look kids!...Big Ben, Parliament).
At some point, testosterone kicked in and he must have realized that he was a 250lb grown man being chased like a little girl by a 40lb raccoon. He then turned around and made another grab for her. The remaining baby decided piss on this! and also went after Lloyd, defending his momma.
I am sure that there was no way he heard our laughter over the sound of all that growling and snarling, but this "show" had been so much more entertaining than we ever expected. WHY OH WHY...do we not own a video camera?? He scared baby #4 back onto its post and once again, it was just him and momma.
I am sure that there was no way he heard our laughter over the sound of all that growling and snarling, but this "show" had been so much more entertaining than we ever expected. WHY OH WHY...do we not own a video camera?? He scared baby #4 back onto its post and once again, it was just him and momma.
Both, were breathing hard and each had a new found respect for the other.
Momma had finally started to wind down and he managed to grab her up, one last time and "helped" her out the door to the backyard. He knew there was no way that he would be able to get her crated again, (especially not in the BROKEN one!) and off into the woods she ran.
He grabbed up the final baby raccoon, who still had lots of fight left in him. By this time, my husband was exhausted, scratched up, still semi-naked and barely able to hang on to this small creature. He called out to me to help him open the cage so that he could put the remaining one in.
He grabbed up the final baby raccoon, who still had lots of fight left in him. By this time, my husband was exhausted, scratched up, still semi-naked and barely able to hang on to this small creature. He called out to me to help him open the cage so that he could put the remaining one in.
Are you talkin' to me? ...right now? Out there? No, no. I just want to watch, I don't want to be an active participant.
GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW AND OPEN UP THIS (insert bad word here) CAGE.
ok...ok...I'm coming. Jeez. You don't need to be so snitty...
To open the cage, you have to squeeze both the top and the bottom of the latch release simultaneously. I was scared to death the raccoons were going to leap out and rip my face off when I did manage to get it open. I sat there and tried to psyche myself up for at least a minute...forgetting that Lloyd was still holding a thrashing and pissed off raccoon. No worries...he reminded me.
However, my fears were unjustified, and I was able to open the crate without incident. He then tossed in the remaining raccoon, closed it up and carried it out to his truck. The little guys were enrolled in a "witness relocation program" not too far from our house. I am sure the doctors that live near this particularly woodsy area will be able to provide the raccoons with classier food than Purina Weight Management Dog Chow.
Later that night, when we were recounting the entire saga over dinner, he asked about the broken crate...
huh?...broken crate? what broken crate? OH...you mean Rorie's old crate. Yeah, that was weird...I had NO IDEA it was broken, or I would have told you, I'm sure.
Later that night, when we were recounting the entire saga over dinner, he asked about the broken crate...
huh?...broken crate? what broken crate? OH...you mean Rorie's old crate. Yeah, that was weird...I had NO IDEA it was broken, or I would have told you, I'm sure.
riiiiiiiiiiiiight.
1 comment:
Ohhh... wow. We had racoon visitors when we lived on Harriet Street, and they are some vicious things. I realized I would need a longer stick when i threw something at the big one and it STOPPED, TURNED, AND LOOKED AT ME>>> way to calmly, I might add. Fortunately, I did remember I outweighed it by 150 or so pounds, and grabbed the broom. It decided to eat someone elses cat food.
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