Love/hate

This is how he was when I first noticed what was happening. I had been cutting the grass and being noisy (at last! the electric mower is back). Took a break to clean up what-Fury-had-left-behind on the raised lawn. Kept hearing a loud chirping noise, like a strange bird... then Fury started making her "I'm interested in something but I don't know what it is" noise... and there was Rocky the Baby Raccoon, hanging upside-down from the crossbar between the pillars supporting my "office", and crying to his mother, who was looking out from the four-inch gap between the top of the pillar and the bottom of the house. (I have never understood why the house doesn't rest on the entire top of the pillar, but it doesn't, and there are four of these little nooks at the back of the house.)

Raccoons seem to have a wide-ranging vocabulary, from this chirping noise to the springtime mating-season screams. This was the first time I'd heard the raccoon parent-child conversation, and it sounded like they were talking; "Help mom! I'm stuck", "Baby boy, what are you doing down there???", "I don't know, help pleeeeeeease!!!!", "Don't panic, you're a big brave boy, I'll be there in a minute, just hold on tight!"

So I fetched the camera... started taking pictures, then realised that the poor little guy really was in danger of falling. He tried and tried and tried, but could not pull himself back up. (Of course, if no-one had been home, Mother Raccoon would probably have been down to fetch him in a flash.) So a large flowerpot saucer came in handy to give him just a little extra support, and he was able to clamber back on to the crossbar, where he waited bravely and patiently for me to leave and for his mother to fetch him. She carried him back up to what must-be-their-nest in her mouth, just like a cat carries kittens, but carrying this not-small guy up a vertical wood-and-concrete pillar. Those claws are strong.

As part of the love-hate relationship with raccoons, yesterday was definitely a love day.

They have not been into the garbage recently; I have learned to think of them like bears, and to take the same precautions as if I were living in bear country. Don't leave food around. Make sure the garbage can is sealed with a heavy weight on its lid. Don't put pond fish into a container that they can reach into.

So for now we have a peaceful, tolerant relationship. Until the nest starts smelling badly, or some other happening or incident puts us on opposite sides of the fence. Or, of course, if I find them happily sitting inside the house, eating my dinner, watching TV and scaring the cat.