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gerisullivanI took Milo back to his people Wednesday afternoon, then spent the evening at the NESFA Clubhouse. Shortly after I returned home in the wee hours, I heard scratching sounds. Loud scratching sounds, much more than the mouse sounds that have been refreshingly absent of late.
I got up, looked around a bit, and pulled out the mouse poison that I'd put out of reach while Milo was visiting. Then I returned to my computer.
Quiet, then more rustles, then quiet. Then Loud Scratchy Rustle Sounds. Really Loud!
I went stomping into the kitchen, calling out in a firm voice, "All right! Who's in MY house?!"
The scratching continued, as demanding as my stampfoot and voice. Thankfully, it wasn't coming from inside.
There was something on the deck, scratching at the screen door as if it desperately wanted to come in. For a split-second, I panicked. Oh, no! Had I accidentally left the dog outdoors? That couldn't be; I'd taken the dog home. He wasn't here any more. So who the heck was so desperate to come in?
I flipped on the outside light. I should have grabbed my camera first, for there at the patio door, standing up on his or her hind legs, claws gripping the screen, was an adult raccoon staring up at me. It didn't move while I returned its stare, but vanished when stepped away from the door to grab the camera.
There was a raccoon on the deck a few years ago, back when I was keeping the bird feeders full. But never before has one come a'knockin' at my door.
I got up, looked around a bit, and pulled out the mouse poison that I'd put out of reach while Milo was visiting. Then I returned to my computer.
Quiet, then more rustles, then quiet. Then Loud Scratchy Rustle Sounds. Really Loud!
I went stomping into the kitchen, calling out in a firm voice, "All right! Who's in MY house?!"
The scratching continued, as demanding as my stampfoot and voice. Thankfully, it wasn't coming from inside.
There was something on the deck, scratching at the screen door as if it desperately wanted to come in. For a split-second, I panicked. Oh, no! Had I accidentally left the dog outdoors? That couldn't be; I'd taken the dog home. He wasn't here any more. So who the heck was so desperate to come in?
I flipped on the outside light. I should have grabbed my camera first, for there at the patio door, standing up on his or her hind legs, claws gripping the screen, was an adult raccoon staring up at me. It didn't move while I returned its stare, but vanished when stepped away from the door to grab the camera.
There was a raccoon on the deck a few years ago, back when I was keeping the bird feeders full. But never before has one come a'knockin' at my door.
