The Giant Raccoon
It all started a few weeks ago. We have a large, 4ft bin, known locally as “garbage can”, though it’s not really a can at all. Either way, we woke up one morning and discovered it had been knocked over and the contents were spilled in the back yard. Although puzzled, we didn’t think much of it and the incident was soon forgotten in the hustle and bustle of the day. However, the very next morning, what did we discover to our great surprise and bewilderment? The bin was once again, knocked to the ground.
Perhaps it had been the wind?
The weather has been mild, so that conclusion felt unlikely.
That was the question that was becoming more and more pronounced in our minds.
Now, Heather and I are members of our ‘Nextdoor’ online community. It’s essentially a community discussion board for people living in our neighbourhood. The message boards contain fascinating discussion topics from recommended plumbers, to reminders that dogs ought not to foul the neighborhood. Items for sale, services offered and requested, security issues etc. For me, the community was at the height of its brilliance last Halloween, when an interactive map of the neighborhood was made available and members were able to indicate on the map whether sweets would be distributed from their house. Welcome to Silicon Valley.
Anyway, on the day of the second bin incident, while at work, a message was posted by our neighbor, Jim, on the Nextdoor message board that began to unfold the mystery. I’ve pasted the message below:
Early yesterday morning I heard something splashing around in my back yard fountain: it was the biggest raccoon I’ve ever seen. It didn’t scare away either. I have emptied the water out to eliminate that attraction for the wildlife. If people have animals they leave outside overnight, be warned.
As I read this message, the full gravity of its implications began to unravel in my mind.
Could it be?
Given the evidence, there was no denying it. Our bin-pusher was in fact, the giant raccoon.
Over the coming days, further evidence came to light. Take, for instance, this paw print, captured in pavement chalk and discovered in our back yard. Heather’s Preschool class had been drawing with chalk on the ground and the GR (Giant Raccoon) had seen fit to trample over their artwork.
Of course, we took evasive action, keeping the rubbish in the larger, more secure wheelie bins and moving the location of the said bins in an attempt to disorient the raccoon.
One day, we set a trap for the raccoon. Joshua and I set up a cardboard box, with a plastic cup on top. On top of the cup was a cherry tomato. “This ought to teach him”, we thought. The next morning, the cherry tomato was gone, but the raccoon was not caught in the box. I felt like he was taunting us.
Things took another turn for the worse when on one particular night, a few days after Joshua’s birthday, we made the mistake of leaving his brand new inflatable ‘wall ball’ outside overnight. Surely this would be a step too far, though?
Does the raccoon care that this ball was a little boy’s special birthday gift? That means nothing to him. He couldn’t care less. Not bothered. Out with the claws. Then off he schnuffles, into the night.
I wish I could tell you that there’s some sort of happy ending to this story, that on a second attempt, the box, cup and cherry tomato trap worked, but the truth is, we still live in fear of this giant nocturnal mammal.
I think the next step is to set up a hidden camera using my phone and lure the beast in with some tasty morsels. When he takes the bait, Josh and I will emerge from the shadows, armed with Joshua’s Nerf crossbow and deliver some foam-dart justice.
Other suggestions welcome in the comments below.