A sad chapter in the life of Trevor Chang, our resident raccoon. As I do most mornings, I was working on an article in my study yesterday, and I happened to see Trevor standing in the middle of the back yard. Since raccoons generally do not hang out in the middle of my back yard, and it had been a month or so since I had seen Trevor, I went outside to take a closer look.
He wasn't afraid of me, and lumbered away, slowly. Not a good sign. He was also not afraid of the neighbor's golden lab, who bounded over in its dorky, happy lab way and started barking and jumping around when he saw the raccoon. REALLY bad sign. I decided it would be better to watch from my study window and went inside.
Trevor laboriously climbed up the elm tree. About two-thirds of his tail was missing, and he was obviously dazed and in pain. It was difficult for him to climb. I considered that he might not indeed be Trevor Chang, our resident raccoon, because he didn't know about the low perch in the tree, and he didn't know that a dog lived next door. In any case, he was wounded, and slept for a couple of hours in the tree. Around lunch time, I noticed him painfully sliding down the tree and making his way out of the yard (I hoped). I was wrong. He found the one tiny hole that I didn't block off around the bottom of the shed and squeezed himself under the shed.
Since I didn't want a raccoon dying under my shed, which is graded poorly and I'd have to dig it out, I opened up everything I could under the shed so he could easily get out, and I provided him a way to leave the yard. We tried to stomp around in the shed and turn on the lawn mower and even squirt a stream of water under the shed. After a few hours, I checked under the shed and he was still there, either sleeping or dead.
The neighbor said it was futile, and that the raccoon had parvovirus, which makes the animal chew on its tail and paralyzes its hind legs. He offered to help remove the carcass (did I mention what a great neighbor he is?). He also confirmed our earlier suspicion that the previous owners had a whole frickin' family of raccoons living under our house (it was too difficult to block off the vent spaces, apparently, so they left them open).
The whole thing seriously bummed me out. I shouldn't be depressed about one less varmint in our yard, but I was. And I was mad at fate for sending the sick animal into my yard. And I was mad at myself for not being more careful about closing off the access points under the shed.
I called a friend, who said I should let it rot and put up with the smell for a while. It's not a big deal, he said, just tell visitors that you recently returned from a trip and it's your carrion baggage.
I love my friends.
This morning, with a heavy heart, I went to go look under the shed again. Miraculously, the raccoon was gone. Mr. Reluctant told me he heard some scratching at the side of the house in the middle of the night, so I ran around and checked all the vent wells. The screens were intact, but there was sign of a B&E attempt, minor damage to the wood siding. But Trevor Chang did not reign supreme. i blocked off the shed and the yard access points, and paradoxically, felt much better that he survived.
He'll be back.
The county fair is in town, which means it is almost in my backyard! We live just a few blocks from the fairgrounds, and we were a bit worried about the noise from the outdoor concerts they hold each year about this time. Last year, we were serenaded with the stylings of Styx on our porch at the old place (domo arigato, free-o concerto), and since that house was five or six blocks farther away from the fair, we were apprehensive.
