Reflections on the Third Week of Summer - Raccoon Removal 

    “Raccoons are the new groundhogs,” Spence says.

Groundhogs devour baby plants in daylight. To discourage their garden grazing, Spence yells or shatters the country calm with a blast from his air horn. He watches groundhogs scamper back to their burrows then fills the openings with cat litter droppings–encouragement for groundhogs to move.

    Raccoons wreck havoc at night.

    The porch incident was my fault. I forgot to tell Spence I'd set a bag of garbage by the gate for him to take to the garage. Though he sat at his porch desk with feet up reading computer news for a couple of hours that evening, he didn't see or smell the bag.

    The raccoon did.

    The next morning shredded garbage decorated the porch floor and wads of paper towels, which I had used to wipe steak grease off the grill, stuck to porch rails and wicker chairs. The varmint even left a double handful mound of soft excrement. On hands and knees, I removed the mess with a rag and Soft Scrub bathroom cleaner.

    Disturbed earth attracts raccoons too. They dug up tomato plants, tossed them aside, and ate the crushed egg shells Spence had put in the holes to prevent blossom end rot. Raccoons dug up other seedlings they tossed aside. Those didn't have egg shells in their holes. Were the raccoons looking for grubs or slugs? Now Spence protects all new plants with chicken wire.

    Worse, raccoons rip the cover cloth protecting blueberries from birds. One got into the north garden tent, broke off a branch, and ate every berry on all three bushes that wasn't solid green.

    How can the varmint see colors in the dark?

    Spence added another course of chicken wire above the bottom row to make a wobbly four foot fence around the blueberry tent. That discouraged climbing, but the raccoons moved to the south garden and ripped open the individual tents.

    I closed tears with bull clips.

    Spence baited the Havahart trap with almond buttered bread and set the trap among the blueberry tents.

    He caught two varmints.

    Tuesday morning a twenty-or-so pound raccoon waited in the trap. Because Spence had heard a trapped raccoon turned on a man when he let it loose, Spence fetched his broken hoe. The blade had fallen off leaving a hook at the end. Spence lifted the cage into the tractor bucket and drove down the woods path to the creek. He set the cage on the ground, stood behind the trap, and reached over to open the door with the hook. The raccoon dashed away.

    Thursday, under ominous clouds, Spence hustled to load a trapped baby raccoon and release it before they both got wet. He wasn't fast enough. Rain hammered them on the drive downhill. Spence let the raccoon loose with the hook, and the baby splashed through the creek to an island.

    Friday morning the almond buttered bread had been eaten, but the trap was tipped on its side and empty.

    Spence secured the trap with tent stakes.

    Last night, a raccoon stole the bait without tipping or snapping the trap.

    Are raccoons the new groundhogs?

    They both are bothersome. But unlike groundhogs, we don't want raccoons to move. They devour snakes, squirrels, and yellow jackets. Raccoons are helpful nuisances.