Honey, I Think We Have a 'Coon in the Attic

Over a week ago I told Jason that I thought we had a critter in the attic.  It started when I heard what sounded like a cat stomping around on the roof.  I didn't think too much of it the first time I heard it.  The next day, however, I heard the stomping again, followed by the sound of rustling papers.  We took a look outside and sure enough, our soffit had been pulled back and you could see that our insulation had been pulled up.

 

We immediately feared the worse: opossums.  Because what's worse than a opossum, right?  Horrible little creatures. 

 

So, we did what any uninformed homeowner would do in this situation and turned to Google.  After a few searches, we were nearly convinced we had a raccoon.  Apparently, opossums are too lazy to create the type of damage done to our soffit. 

 

Hoping to save a bit of money, we sent a request to our neighborhood message board asking if anyone had any suggestions of how to solve the problem.  A few neighbors offered us their traps.  We spent two unsuccessful nights trying to lure the raccoon into a trap using marshmallows.

 

Meanwhile, I had actually heard the raccoon a few times.  Another quick Google search confirmed what I was hearing.  (Click here and listen to the "Coo" sound.)  However, on about day four of the adventure, we started hearing a different sound.  (Click the "Sad Baby Raccoon" soundbite.)  Yep, our raccoon friend had babies in our attic.

 

With babies in the mix, we decided to call in the professionals.  Another neighbor had suggested calling a wildlife control expert to help us.  When I heard he was an Aggie, I was sold.  So, our raccoon expert met me one afternoon to access the situation.  Since we had already been unsuccessful trying to catch the raccoon, we decided on another route.  We put a couple of towels soaked in male raccoon scent in the attic.  The male scent should have put the momma raccoon in protective mode and made her move her and her babies to a different location. 

 

Our wildlife guy taped the hole in our soffit with painter's tape so we could make sure she had left the next night.  (She could have easily ripped through the tape to get out.)  However, the tape was never torn.  We figured either 1) something had happened to the momma the last time she went out to hunt or 2) she was staying in and nursing her babies, not taking a break to eat.  After a few nights of no evidence that she was going in or out (and several nights of screaming raccoon babies keeping us up), our wildlife expert came back to fetch the babies.

 

 

Luckily, the babies were still alive.  Pretty weak and very hungry, but alive.  There were only two of them - a brother and a sister.  He's going to take them to a rehabilitation center so they can regain strength and live long and happy lives.  (I really hope this wasn't a "I'm taking them to the happy farm" type of story, and there really is a rehabilitation center.)

 

 

Aren't they cute in that ugly/ cute type of way?

 

So, you might be asking yourself why Jason or I didn't just crawl up in the attic ourselves.  Well, we both have an illogical fear of wild creatures in the attic.  Sure, we can camp in the Alaskan wild for over a week, but crawl up in the attic, heck no!  Makes tons of sense, huh?

 

Oh well, problem solved.  Life in this house never fails to be interesting.