Raccoons are not cute
Neither are possums or armadillos or squirrels. Don’t even try to argue the point with me because it’ll get you absolutely nowhere. I used to be like you, in love with all of God’s creatures.
Not any more.
I am not against wildlife, mind you. I am content to share my yard. If an animal wants dig up and trash my potted plants over and over again looking for God knows what, I am cool with that. But so help me, if one decides to crawl into the attic or walls of my house and DIE, we will have words and many of those words will consist of only four letters.
Here’s the thing….
I love my house. It is not a big house but built in the 1940’s it has tons of character. It is big enough without being pretentious or too expensive to cool in the hell heat of summer. It is located in the center of a little city/town. Best of all, it’s completely paid for. No mortgage.
Now, the thing about old houses in this area is that they are built on pier and beam, meaning there is a crawl space under the house that could fit a grown man on his hands and knees. As you can imagine, animals like that area quite a lot, too. Warm or cool depending on the season. Hidden. Food nearby. What’s not to love?
Shortly after buying this house, the first hint of odor wafted through the walls upstairs. Within 24 hours it was very clear an animal had died somewhere. I searched everywhere to try to find that carcass. Never could find it. Do you know how long it takes the stench of a liquefying animal to burn off?
About five days, as it turns out.
Now, I am certain I am not the only one this happens to. Dead animals in your walls is of those dirty little secrets no one ever wants to admit to for fear of being judged… like enjoying oral sex. But it happened to me and my house several times a year for a number of years.
Dead animals were not the only problem, though. Hoards of bot flies would descend upon the house from time to time like a plague straight out of Egypt. You know how flies are. 2-3 buzzing about feels like a lot. This was over fifty. Inside my house. All at once. Bot flies like dead animals. They LOVED my house. I am a pretty good shot with a fly swatter now, after all of that practice.
Almost as bad as the flies and the stench was waking up to an MMA fight in progress in my ceiling in the dead of night. And did you know that chewing sounds are magnified by sheet rock? Sounded like some sort of jack hammer. The sleep deprivation was real, people. I would hear loud noises in the yard and run outside only to find entire families of animals, specifically raccoons, scrabbling up the side of my house.
How were they getting in?!??????!!!
Finally, I was at my wits end. My family and I had endured QUITE enough and I was ready to torch the place, paid off or not. How could I in good conscience pass off this to someone else?
So I scoured the internet for advice, all of which was most unhelpful. Those animals practically scoffed at the nauseating stench of the red fox pee that was sprayed all over the house and property. The only thing it deterred was me. You name it, I tried it.
The man of the house took to using one of those *humane* traps, thinking if we could catch them before they ended up in the walls and attic that might help. We placed *inhumane* traps throughout the attic crawl spaces that could be reached. We caught dozens of raccoons, possums, and armadillos. Animal control knew my voice well.
“Yeah, yeah. We know who you are and where you live…” the man on the other end of the line would growl.
Something tells me that they were not taking those animals *away* to release them.
One day, whilst bemoaning the vermin issue with a neighbor who was experiencing similar issues, I was informed that an old lady down the street was feeding the raccoons by putting food out for them at night. Rarely have I felt a desire to do violence against another fellow human being but this was one of those times. She did die eventually but not by my hand…
You know what seemed to work? Chicken wire. Chicken wire all over the eaves and attic vents. Chicken wire along the base of the house. Chicken wire anywhere an animal might try to weasel its way inside.
And…. that lady down the street? She stopped feeding the wildlife….