Racoon Rant no. 81

Another racoon encounter last night…. I was up late blogging, and heard a telltale “thump” coming from the back. I went out to the back porch, unlocked and opened the sliding door (I’ve learned my lesson there), and searched around. Nothing for a few seconds. Then a fat raccoon scurried past me, right beside the now open door. Fortunately, he didn’t have the temerity to invite himself in – he scooted behind the bbq to hide. Ha! I smiled grimly, and grabbed the hose. “Get outta here you fat bastard!!! N O W!!!!” I yelled. Jake cowered in the kitchen, no doubt sympathetic to his furry cousin and relieved that HE wasn’t the object of my rage. My neighbours were probably listening and wondering just who I was yelling at.

I hosed him out of his hiding place, and he bolted for another corner. I blasted him again, soaking him to the skin. He made a break for the rainspout, and in an impressive feat of agility, he leaped over the railing, grabbed the slippery (and now very wet) metal gutter with both hands and feet. Then, to my surprise he slid headfirst all the way down to the ground. It was a creditable imitation of an upside down fireman’s slide down a pole, and I was full of admiration as I continued blast him with water all the way down. It was an escape worthy of a cartoon action hero.