Visitors in the Night

One night while watching some television in the family room, Holly and I heard crash come for the garage below us. The cats had now been outside for about a month but were generally not destructive when hanging out in the garage at night. We would keep the garage door open about 6 inches so they could crawl in and out. The garage is also home to our gas furnace and hot water heater. So the temperature in the garage is fairly comfortable, especially for those covered in fur.

They have it quite comfortable out there. There are several empty boxes for them to perch on or crawl into and their food and water were always filled to keep their bellies full.

On this night, I had a feeling that I wasn’t going to be dealing with our cats. It seemed that over the past week the dog and cat food bags had gone much lower than I could have imagined three cats eating. Mysteriously the bags were being ripped open which the cats generally don’t do.

I grabbed my trust flashlight and headed for the basement where we have an entry into the garage. The lights witch is located on the inside of the garage near the door. I turned on the flashlight and opened the door slowly. A pair of glowing eyes inside a black mask peered in at me. I fumbled with the flashlight as I stepped behind the door never taking my eyes from the intruder.

The Fat Raccoon turned its back on me and scuttled under the garage door. Jesus I swore under my breath reaching in and turning on the lights to the garage.

A banging noise erupted from the back of the garage. I turned my head and the flashlight toward the sound. We have a corner of the garage where we have been storing spare boards as we have been fixing up the house. The boards had seemed to take on a life of their own and slid against one another in a xylophonic melody.

“Another one.” I said under my breath to no ones else but myself. I seem to talk to myself without answering. I suppose this is pretty normal.

I closed the door to the basement and found a six foot bamboo pole that had been left by the former owners. As good a weapon as any I suppose.

I made my way to the back of the garage through the maze of unpacked boxes. I shielded myself from the pile of lumber with Holly’s tack box from her equestrian days. I used the flashlight to light up the floor near the boards and found a striped tail attached to a rather big raccoon butt.

I’m guessing Raccoons, much like children, think if they can’t see you, you can’t see them…

I gave my new found friend a friendly poke in the butt with the end of the bamboo stick. A slight growl and bumping of lumber on lumber came again and the little guy slid out of the lumber and stopped near some boxes. We stared at one another for what was probably like three seconds but felt like a minute. I decided to reason with him. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want you to leave.” I can’t believe I was talking to a raccoon. The raccoon looked at his escape way and back up at me. “Go on,” I pointed to the now open garage door.

The raccoon took my suggestion and scurried from the garage. I followed him outside and watched as he scuttled into the woods beside our house. It was then that I found where the huge ass raccoon had stopped. On the edge of our property where the wooded area begins stand a very large oak tree. I couldn’t possible wrap my arms around this tree, nor would I want to with all of the thick vines climbing up the trunk. The bigger of the two raccoons must have exhausted himself from hauling his big fat butt out of the garage. He had stopped climbing up the trunk and was hanging there starting at me from about eight feet up. I had the flashlight on his and he just stayed there staring at me. He certainly had little fear of me, which is hardly the case for me of him. I gave him the look, you know the one, “And Stay Out!”

We have since placed the cat and dog food into the basement. The cats have their food on the front porch during the day and we try to bring it in every night. We still see the raccoons every now and then. They are usually running up or down the hill along the road late at night. I guess they are working off all that food that they devoured during their late-night raiding.