I didn't think they had the guts. The night before last, we used my flour trick to determine what was breaking into the container where we keep the dogs' food. Sure enough: raccoon tracks. We always thought they wouldn't venture so near to the house, to the back door for goodness sake, where we go in and out all the time. But they are bold critters. Again, though, it's odd - like the chickens, who had a year of peace and then two nights of attacks, we've kept dog food out there for 3 years now and the 'coon starts going after it every night. Perhaps they're staging some sort of insurrection. What is it with this month?
Last night D spotted it around 12:30am. We looked out the back door and there sat a raccoon, sleek and happily crunching kibble that he'd gotten by chewing through a bag. He was duly chased off (though D had hoped to do more via the .22), but we noticed this morning that the remaining bits of kibble on the ground had disappeared this morning. The nerve.
Today: strawberry picking with our homeschool co-op, M's soccer, and band. Tonight: the Havasnack - I mean Havahart - trap gets tried again.
3 comments:
I think the racoons are the henchmen for the beavers and are just getting revenge.
poison.
that's all i have to say.
I have named the racoon Moby and you Ahab. Call me Ishmael
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