Reprinted from my blog. I had to share with you.
The goddamned fucking bastard raccoons are back.
Raccoons have long been my archenemies. When we first moved to the Toronto area in 2000 I assumed I’d never have to deal with wildlife again, but boy, was I wrong. Raccoons are everywhere here; there are more raccoons in cities than in the woods. In our first apartment building our apartment faced the dumpsters, which wasn’t a problem with small (we were eight storeys up) but was a problem in that the dumpsters became a sort of raccoon dance club, where raccoons by the dozen would come to eat, screw, fight and generally raise hell all night. We temporarily solved this by moving to an apartment than was 35 storeys up, but then moved into a house and now I’ve been doing battle with them ever since.
For quite some time it was just that the little pricks got into our garbage and made a mess. Nothing would stop them. You know those garbage cans that have “secure” lids? I don’t know what they’re supposed to be secure from, but not raccoons. Nothing stops a raccoon. They’ll find ways to open anything. I tried twist ties and they figured out how to untie them. I was going to go to a combination lock but was afraid I’d come outside one night and find a raccoon with a stethoscope listening for tumblers.
Well, we have a garage to stow our garbage now so the raccoons have elected to drive me insane by invading my attic.
I have no idea how they get in. Our roof is new and I’ve examined every nook and cranny of the soffits and whatnot and I’m telling you there isn’t a gap up there a mouse could get through. There’s no sign of damage anywhere. When you hear them and you stick your head up into the attic the little shits vanish as if into thin air. But once the coast is clear they run around up there. A fifteen-pound raccoon in your attic SOUNDS like a black bear; it’s amazingly loud. For awhile they liked the area above my bed but now they seem to be nesting in the kitchen attic.
I tried one of those Hav-A Heart traps, baited with peanut butter just like the instructions said, and all I managed to catch was a bill for $70 for the trap.
So far the only effective counter to them was the Jones Raccoon Poking Device. Last year they decided to try to hang out in the “Vault” above our bathtub – you know, the part of the ceiling that’s lowered just in the area above the tub. The noise was amazing; it was as if full grown humans were frolicking up there. I’d finally had enough so I drilled holes in the drywall and fashioned the Jones Raccoon Poking Device by straightening out a wire coat hanger. Then I jabbed the little bastard until he ran away.
The JRPD was brilliant, but now that they’ve taken up residence in different, less pokable places I don’t know what to do. I can’t drill holes all over my ceiling. The trap was a bust, and despite what people tell you is no more humane than killing them, since transplanting a raccoon will usually kill them (they’re very territorial.) You can’t poison them or else you’ll have a smelly dead raccoon in your attic. I don’t have a gun, and anyway they always hide when I go up there. If I call the raccoon guy he’ll charge me an arm and a leg.
So I’m going to continue with my current tactic, which is to wait until I hear them and then repeatedly slam a book on the area they’re in to scare them, which often chases them off for periods of up to ninety seconds.
