Let me start with a couple of Useless Tips for Ridding Your Yard of Raccoons:
1) Put a radio outside and leave it on all night. The sound of human voices will deter coons from entering the area.
Reality: Raccoons are smarter than that. They quickly realize that there are no actual people sitting outside yakking it up all night.
2) Install a motion-sensor light to scare raccoons away.
Reality: The raccoons in our yard must have taken "Humans 101" at the local coon college. The light came on, they scattered...and immediately regrouped when it became apparent that nothing more than light was going to happen.
What we didn't try was my genius idea of large swaths of flypaper around the pool for little coon feet to get stuck on! What? Stop giving me that look. It could have worked. Oh, never mind.
Partial success was reached this morning due to Papa's perserverance. Two nights ago he baited a cage with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and didn't set the catch, hoping to lure them into a sense of security. It worked. Free dinner #2 was set out last night, this time with the cage set to snap shut when entered.
"There's at least 8 of them," he observed after watching them from a darkened corner of the pool cabana. "Two separate families that bicker over food and territory."
Lo and behold, an adolescent-size coon was caught. I went out this morning to look before leaving for work. He scrabbled about, chewing on the remains of a cardboard label advertising "Large raccoon trap! Perfect for raccoons, opposums and similarly-sized animals." As we approached he crouched low, facing a corner, nose nearly touching the wire. My brother and I sat on the concrete closest to him. He met our gaze with his wide, dark eyes, but didn't move.
My comforting instinct urged for me to reach through the tiny squares and smooth his hackled fur, but I knew a snarl and snap would instantly greet my fingers. We spoke quietly to him. It's strange to be faced with an antagonist and have them meet your gaze with fear. It's much easier to be angry at a faceless opponent, to mutter "you darn critters!" when they aren't looking you in the eye.
I am eternally grateful to be the daughter of a man who will humanely trap and release an animal instead of stuffing it or skinning it or turning it into stew. As we sat by the cage, Papa came out with a piece of bread. He tore off small pieces and pushed them between the bars. The raccoon lifted his head, not quite turning around, but sensing the presence of food. As I left for work Papa lifted the cage and carefully set it in the back of the truck, taking him away to a second chance at life.
