To Catch A Thief

This is the Easter weekend, and my older son is home from Kingston for a few days, so I'm going to take a short break from creating CD and book covers. I'll resume those later in the week, but at this time, I won't be taking any further requests. I apologize to those who are still waiting to see theirs. It won't be too much longer. Thanks for playing along.

I keep a bird feeder hanging off of the plum tree in my back yard. Usually, after it's been freshly filled, it will take anywhere from one day to one week until it's emptied by the variety of birds which come for their feast. Lately though, I've been finding the empty feeder with its lid askew, and a small pile of seed on the surface beneath the supporting branch.

I know that squirrels are notorious for emptying feeders in a hurry, but those I've seen around here had always been content to eat from spilled seed and frequently-offered peanuts, as long as the Blue Jays hadn't already beaten them to it. The only alternative that came to mind was that creature known for its bandit-like qualities - a raccoon.

I had placed a plastic outdoor table directly beneath the feeder in hopes of catching most of the overspill, resulting in less to clean up from the patio after all winter. It would seem that the table might have aided the suspected raccoon in accessing, opening and tipping the feeder.. We decided to try securing the lid of the feeder by using a couple of heavy-duty rubber bands - the kind that you can often find around stalks of store-bought broccoli. This worked for a while, but it also seemed to make the birds ill at ease. Suddenly, a week or two would go by without any reduction in the feeder's contents. When temperatures dropped to particularly cold depths, the elasticity would weaken and I'd find broken bits of the bands lying on the snow.

Eventually, the birds became used to seeing this new decoration, and they returned to feed once again. However, a more determined raccoon began visiting regularly, and the new attempts to secure the roof of the feeder were quickly thwarted by this persistent critter.

Last weekend, Frank decided to buy another style of feeder, in hopes of deterring the raccoon from gaining such easy admittance to the quickly-diminishing seed. This one was taller and narrower, and contained several perches for smaller birds. We also decided to remove the table from beneath the feeder, to eliminate at least one approach.

Not a half hour later, we saw a raccoon climb down the side of our house, walk along the fence and stroll down into the yard. She glanced up at the tree, and immediately began to climb.

Settling into the branches, she sat still momentarily while she considered her plan of attack. Slowly, she eased herself toward the branch which houses the feeder.



Without a care in the world she casually lifted the roof off of the feeder as if she'd seen it a hundred times before and began nourishing her belly.



On my side of the glass, Benny was barking his fool head off at this masked intruder. How dare she not feel intimidated!

Eventually, Frank held Benny back while I chased her away to the back of the yard, under the fence and to safety. As soon as I turned around to come back inside, she was practically at my heels, heading back to her interrupted meal. I tried a total of three chases - all with the same results. Finally I held Benny while Frank made menacing noises, kicked a plastic bucket with which Ben likes to play and ran straight into my lilac bush. Hours later he was still finding twigs in his hair. It seemed so unfair that I had to be holding Benny instead of my camera.

Frank decided that the new feeder was useless for my yard and ended up taking it home with him to add to his growing collection. A different, smaller raccoon has since returned, undoing elastics and tipping the feeder. I've given up.



Raccoons are clever little creatures and when they want something badly enough, they're not easily dissuaded. This Easter weekend tells me that it has been one year since Mama raccoon nested in my attic and subsequently under my deck. I figure if she wants to live near me so badly, the least I can do is feed her.



Happy Passover, Easter and Spring!

If you're relatively new to my blog and haven't read about the chaotic time that a raccoon fell through my bedroom ceiling, please click here for part one. Parts two and three follow. The tale is complete with photographs of baby raccoons and Mama clinging to my son's window.. from the inside. That family still lives under my deck a year later. I hope you enjoy the posts.

Things That Go Bump, Crash (and Oh Sh*t!) in the Night

This is the Final Part of the two previous posts "Things That Go Bump in the Night." You can either scroll down for two posts, or find Part One here and Part Two here.

Depending on the reason, it can be anything between mildly frustrating and seriously infuriating when somebody hangs up on you. In this case, I met the situation with anger and bewilderment. I had just been told that I would have to deal with a mother raccoon trapped in my house without the help of experts. She was confused, frightened and desperate to see her babies, who were nestled in a bucket on the roof. I hung up the phone and stared in disbelief. Now what?

I no sooner stood to see how the raccoon was doing, when the phone rang. It was Sean, a supervisor over at the wildlife removal service. Evidently Mr. Nameless at least had the sense to let him know that he had just talked to one irate and very unhappy customer on the phone. Sean immediately returned my call to let me know that he fully grasped the urgency of the situation and that he was sending someone over right away. That someone was Sande, who also made a point of phoning to reassure me that he was on his way, but that it would take him about a half hour to forty minutes. I felt very grateful and hoped that the raccoon could hold on until then. She did.


We had the better part of an hour to kill before Sande arrived. I went next door to get my neighbour and friend Caroline. I knew that this was something she'd want to see. She and her husband Lloyd came over to share stunned expressions over the mess. Lloyd is from Newfoundland, and I mentally predicted the very words that he uttered. "Lard Tundering Jaysus! What in the hell happened here?" I guided them to Alex's room where the poor frightened mother raccoon continued to stare back at us. Lloyd and Caroline's daughter had an important hockey game to play that night, but Lloyd promised to return afterward to board up my ceiling.

Shortly after they left, Sande arrived and set to work immediately. "Where are the babies?" I told him their approximate location on the roof and he climbed up there in the dark to retrieve them and relocate them to a sheltered corner of my front deck. I asked how many there were and if they appeared to be okay. He counted the same four that were there earlier that afternoon and reassured me that that seemed to be just fine. Sande then came into the house with one of those poles that have an adjustable loop on the end of it, so that he could capture the mom.


He approached her slowly, and spoke soothingly to her. She began to panic. Amid much pole-biting, growling and flopping about, he managed to get the loop around her neck and cinch it. She fought like her life was at risk, and to her, it was. There was no way to communicate to this poor beast that we were going to set her free so that she could reunite with her babies. She hissed, growled and struggled until she manage to work herself out of the loop. She ran downstairs. Sande was adept at his job though, and soon had her cornered in my kitchen, this time fastening the loop around her abdomen. He guided her outside my front door and onto the deck where her litter of kits were blissfully asleep in the Rubbermaid tub.

She continued her chorus of fierce noises and he persisted in trying to sooth her with his words. Out of exhaustion, she eventually calmed down enough for him to reach into the tub and remove one of her kits. He slowly brought the baby close to its mother and she snatched it from Sande's hand at the same time he released his hold on her. With her baby clutched close to her, she ran up and over the snowbanks on my front lawn, across the street and out of sight.

Sande assured me that she would almost certainly return for her other babies through the night, once she found another safe place for them. He suggested that we keep away from the deck for tonight, but to check on them in the morning. He was betting that they'd no longer be in the tub. I thanked him profusely and told him how much I appreciated his concern for the creatures. He told me that he has spent time raising abandoned raccoon kits himself, so he felt quite confident when it came to handling them under this sort of circumstance. We chatted a bit more and he had me sign a "no charge" invoice before he departed, and I went back into the house to figure out what to do with the mess.

Water was still dripping slowly into the bucket below. I retrieved my iPod and portable player speaker from underneath some of the mess. It escaped most of the wet insulation and works just fine. I picked up enough junk from the floor, nightstand, bed and from behind the furniture to half-fill a garbage bag. I stripped the bed of its covers and pillows, pulled it from the wall and vacuumed everywhere. Aside from the ceiling and roof, the damage was restricted to the lamp, the nightstand which seems to have become discoloured from the water (perhaps raccoon urine) and the blinds in Alex's room.

As promised, Lloyd returned around midnight with large sheets of plastic which we placed over the bed, nightstand and floor. He then proceeded to remove the excess debris that was still hanging from the gaping ceiling. A few loose pieces of plaster and drywall were taken down to make the job of covering the hole easier to do.


Lloyd located the beams and with Frank's help, expertly nailed a few sheets of plywood to cover the unwanted skylight in my room. He then stapled another plastic sheet all around it to give it a tight seal from the cold air and moisture.



I filled another trash bag and a half with the excess debris and the plastic sheet, and then vacuumed again. My room was toasty warm all night - a testament to the quality work that Lloyd does.

Early the next morning, I just had to head outside to see if the babies were still in the tub. I grabbed my jacket and went out on the deck. I slowly peeled back the protective layer of insulation and saw only more padding beneath that. I touched and gently poked it all over the place but the tub was empty of baby raccoons. The mother had retrieved them all, and I breathed a sigh of relief. For a second or two, I thought I heard the familiar chatter sound that they make, but chalked it up to my tired mind playing tricks on me. The sound is not unlike some birds, so that was probably what I'd heard. I went back inside to make tea.

Later in the day, Lloyd climbed up onto the roof with my camera, to take pictures of the hole (with the one-way door in place), and to lay a tarp over it as required by the insurance company. They'll send someone out today or tomorrow to investigate the situation. I hope to have the roof and ceiling repaired shortly.



I'm very grateful for a number of things:

I glad that Frank was here for an early weekend visit. He usually arrives on a Friday, but decided to come out on the Thursday for the long weekend. I wouldn't have been able to keep reasonably calm on my own, and his suggestions certainly helped to minimize damage. Thanks, Frank.

I'm grateful for wonderful neighbours that are always reliable. That hockey game ran late, and Lloyd was tired but he returned to help me out of a jam. Thanks, Lloyd.

I'm appreciative that the two K's (Kyle and Ken), supervisor Sean and rescuer Sande were all kind, caring and compassionate people who understood my distress and made the animals' safety a priority. I don't know what happened with Mr. Nameless, but I am glad that he ultimately made contact with someone who had a brain and who cared.

I'm very relieved that this didn't happen a few hours later while I was sleeping. I'm so much happier telling this story, than the one that would start out with "I awoke to a face full of raccoon and wet insulation."

I'm thrilled that the mother and her young were reunited safely.

I'm thankful that this whole situation was as minor as it turned out to be. I got to thinking about the suddenness of it all. One moment we were chatting and playing cards, anticipating a quiet weekend, and then all hell broke loose. In an instant, everything changed. I related that to how the unforeseen happens to people all of the time with car accidents, fires and illness. My incident will be costly, inconvenient and frustrating - nothing more. I'm very thankful that in perspective, it was pretty small and really rather funny - at least in retrospect.

Epilogue: On Saturday afternoon, my son Jeffrey was playing around with Benny in the front yard - throwing small chunks of snow around for him to chase. At one point he stopped tossing the snow and called me over to the deck where the kits' tub had been. "Do you hear this?" I did. It turns out that the chatter I'd heard that morning was not a bird. Mama raccoon decided to keep her babies close to home. This family of five now lives under my deck.

Things That Go Bump in the Night

About a week ago, I awoke to hear a series of persistent bumps, thuds and scratching sounds coming from above my bed. The scratches turned into scrapes which in turn became more of a ripping sound. My guess was that a raccoon was trying to get into the crawl space-sized attic in order to find shelter from the windy night. I heard the ruckus intermittently through much of the night and by morning, I had circles under my eyes that could compete with the little bandit who had caused my sleeplessness. Nobody else had heard it and it didn't seem to reappear for the next few days so I put it out of my mind - mostly.

The critter reappeared late Wednesday with some distinguishing scratching, walking and chuttering sounds. I asked my friend Google to help me find a simple, safe and humane way to rid my home of this potentially destructive animal. Several of Google's offerings suggested spreading mothballs or ammonia-soaked rags in the area (but not if I suspected there might be babies as it can damage their mucus membranes), setting a radio to a talk show and playing it loudly, and shining a bright light in the space. The only access to my attic is through a small wooden entrance in the ceiling of my closet. There are no stairs leading to it. To get inside, I'd require a ladder, a flashlight and dexterity - along with a fearlessness of heights, small spaces and confronting a wild animal under those conditions. I had the ladder and the flashlight. The rest not so much. Google also impressed upon me, the understanding that raccoons can do a great deal of damage, and with this being nesting season, I figured it was wise to call in the professionals.

I'd heard about a wildlife removal service that had the reputation of employing a particularly humane approach, and so I phoned them early yesterday morning. The woman was up front about the costs of their service which would include removal of the animal, removal of any young that might be present, relocation of the young so that the mother could find them, and placement of a one-way door at the raccoon's point of access. There were additional costs for each roof vent and exhaust that would require screening to prevent the animal's return. A quick estimation in my head told me that I was looking at upwards of $500. She told me that they could have someone here by the afternoon, and I was grateful that I wouldn't have to spend another sleepless night.

Ken and Kyle, two friendly, young guys arrived even earlier than expected in their bright yellow van. After asking a few questions they set their ladder up at the back of my townhouse and inspected the roof for holes. It was clear to them that the raccoon had entered by a large opening it had created at the juncture between my roof and my neighbour's. They brought their ladder inside to my closet and hopped up into the attic with the agility that I so clearly lacked. Their muffled voices indicated that they had found the culprit. Ken or Kyle (since I don't know one from the other, I'll just call them K) poked his head back out of the attic to ask me if I could find a small box for them. I asked if they had found babies and K told me that she had in fact had her litter in my attic. The plan was to bring the babies out through the house but to leave the mother trapped inside temporarily, put the one-way door in place and hopefully reunite mother with babies once she escaped through her new exit. I emptied a Rubbermaid box that had just been holding some junk in the garage and handed it to K. A moment later he emerged with the box full of insulation and four adorable baby raccoons.




I oooed and awwwed over them for a moment, and resisted the strong urge to touch them, knowing it was not wise. K stroked them with a gloved finger and agreed with me that they were beautiful little creatures. I was happy to see that he genuinely cared about their welfare. He covered them up with more insulation and a loosely-placed garbage bag, and set about finding a safe spot for them in a sheltered corner of the back yard.

After screening off all of the roof vents K spoke with his supervisor who suggested that once the mother emerged through the one-way door, it would be best if she could find her young nearby. The two Ks worked together to secure the box to the roof and even before they descended, they saw the mother raccoon exit the attic and discover her litter. K also asked me not to mention their location to whomever I spoke to in a few days when I'd make the appointment to have the one-way door removed. That was above and beyond what they were supposed to do, and their extra effort might not be appreciated by their boss. I understood, was very appreciative of their caring natures and told them that I would remember not to mention it. That was a promise I ended up breaking (sorry K).

I was instructed to make a phone call to their office in about five days, when I was certain that the raccoon activity had ceased. Someone would come back to remove the one-way door and place some more screening over the hole. It would then be my responsibility to get the roof repaired. I worried about the safety of the young and hoped that the mother would find a new, secure location for them quickly.

This being a long weekend, I was expecting my son Jeffrey to arrive home from university in a few hours. Frank makes the best beef ribs ever, and Jeffrey has the best beef rib appetite ever, so there was no guessing what was on the menu for dinner that night. Frank set about simmering ribs and I poured myself a drink and we soon settled into a game of cribbage. That's when we heard the CRASH!

To be continued here...