Dec. 9th, 2013
Anyone need a fur coat?
Dec. 9th, 2013 11:11 pmRight.
So there's a raccoon in my basement. I startled him the other day going to the laundry, and closed the toilet up again to prevent him from drinking from it. He'd made a mess of my bathroom downstairs.
Today I went down there and saw that he had left me a present on the landing of the stairs (ew) and his funk was everywhere. Raccoons are FUNKY.
I also saw that the little rags that I had used to block the draft from the window over the laundry area had been knocked down.
Huh. That's odd.
So I grabbed the work light that hangs in that area and looked around for the rags behind the washer.
There's a box that sits next to the washer. I think it was from the humidifier, so it's pretty tall and empty.
Yeah. Ricky Raccoon is camped out in that box.
Ask me how I know he's a male. Go ahead. Ask me.
I could say I did my research, which suggests that raccoons who camp out in basements are nearly always male, or occasionally females without young.
I did that a minute ago.
After Ricky Raccoon flashed his harbls at me.
Also: I'm not scary to him in the least.
So I'm left with a couple of weird choices.
I have no money to hire anyone to deal with the menace. I could deal with the fact that I have a non-rent-paying housemate who appears to be settled in for the winter, I suppose.
I could call Animal Control tomorrow morning. (Which I plan to.)
Or, I could take some duck tape down there (pre-torn of course) and seal Ricky in that damn box, then haul him out to the truck and drive him several miles away and dump his funky @ss. Oddly, that last choice seems reasonable to me.
Why does that seem reasonable to me?
In any event, I'm certainly not going to attempt that on my own.
***Edit a couple of hours later***
I put together a Brave and Crazy team and dealt with Ricky Raccoon appropriately.
I was the crazy half. I found a brave friend who came over and we made a plan. Ricky was pretty lethargic. This was rather like dumping out that stoner roommate that no one's sure whose friend he is and isn't paying rent. Brave picked up the box and carried it outside. Ricky did not care. Crazy opened up a lockable plastic storage tub, and stayed poised with the lid.
Brave dumped the raccoon (somewhat more gently than I would have) into the tub. Crazy put the lid on him, though he almost got away from me. Brave nudged him back into the tub.
Brave loaded him into the back of my truck and I locked up and dragged the tub several miles away.
I won't tell you where I left him, but I will tell you that he was not remotely interested in leaving his sweet digs in the plastic tub.
Too bad, Ricky. Off you go.
I know that this is not a long-term solution to the problem, but at least I won't be surprised by an adolescent male raccoon in the basement again soon. Later maybe, but not soon.
So there's a raccoon in my basement. I startled him the other day going to the laundry, and closed the toilet up again to prevent him from drinking from it. He'd made a mess of my bathroom downstairs.
Today I went down there and saw that he had left me a present on the landing of the stairs (ew) and his funk was everywhere. Raccoons are FUNKY.
I also saw that the little rags that I had used to block the draft from the window over the laundry area had been knocked down.
Huh. That's odd.
So I grabbed the work light that hangs in that area and looked around for the rags behind the washer.
There's a box that sits next to the washer. I think it was from the humidifier, so it's pretty tall and empty.
Yeah. Ricky Raccoon is camped out in that box.
Ask me how I know he's a male. Go ahead. Ask me.
I could say I did my research, which suggests that raccoons who camp out in basements are nearly always male, or occasionally females without young.
I did that a minute ago.
After Ricky Raccoon flashed his harbls at me.
Also: I'm not scary to him in the least.
So I'm left with a couple of weird choices.
I have no money to hire anyone to deal with the menace. I could deal with the fact that I have a non-rent-paying housemate who appears to be settled in for the winter, I suppose.
I could call Animal Control tomorrow morning. (Which I plan to.)
Or, I could take some duck tape down there (pre-torn of course) and seal Ricky in that damn box, then haul him out to the truck and drive him several miles away and dump his funky @ss. Oddly, that last choice seems reasonable to me.
Why does that seem reasonable to me?
In any event, I'm certainly not going to attempt that on my own.
***Edit a couple of hours later***
I put together a Brave and Crazy team and dealt with Ricky Raccoon appropriately.
I was the crazy half. I found a brave friend who came over and we made a plan. Ricky was pretty lethargic. This was rather like dumping out that stoner roommate that no one's sure whose friend he is and isn't paying rent. Brave picked up the box and carried it outside. Ricky did not care. Crazy opened up a lockable plastic storage tub, and stayed poised with the lid.
Brave dumped the raccoon (somewhat more gently than I would have) into the tub. Crazy put the lid on him, though he almost got away from me. Brave nudged him back into the tub.
Brave loaded him into the back of my truck and I locked up and dragged the tub several miles away.
I won't tell you where I left him, but I will tell you that he was not remotely interested in leaving his sweet digs in the plastic tub.
Too bad, Ricky. Off you go.
I know that this is not a long-term solution to the problem, but at least I won't be surprised by an adolescent male raccoon in the basement again soon. Later maybe, but not soon.