“Who is that masked stranger?”

by

Gerry Niskern

I woke to the sound of something running overhead. How could that be? Was it mice in the attic? If so, they were a new species weighing at least 50 pounds each. I convinced myself the sounds were probably a cat on the roof and I drifted back to sleep.
we’d purchased a home in the North Phoenix foothills. Every morning in the silver-pink light of dawn we delighted in watching the abundant wildlife. We could see rabbits nibbling on the dewy clumps of desert grass. In the middle of the day orange and black chuckawallas were usually “catching a few rays” on the gray shale rocks above the house. More exciting was the occasional bronze king snake curled up inside our garden hose. In the evening, as the safety of twilight settled over the mountains a fox, coyote or raccoon, followed by two smaller ones, might be seen traveling quickly and quietly down our street and disappearing into the darkness.
We loved entertaining our friends with stories of finding raccoons in our swimming pool area. We watched them slapping at the water in the Jacuzzi; obviously thinking there were fish at the bottom when they saw the movement of the self-cleaning spouts popping up.
We were often awakened at night when our wrought iron gate clanged as they squeezed their fat bodies through. If that didn’t wake us, the sounds of the squeaky voice of the mama communicating to the young that “they had five more minutes and then out of the pool and dry off”. If my husband went down to shoo them away, they just raised up from the deck and stared at him.
Later we learned It’s that direct look right at you with the cute mask of black around the eyes that convinces people raccoons are friendly, adorable creatures. Wrong! The delightful sight of a raccoon stopping two feet away and gazing steadily at you is not a friendly gesture.It is an act of aggression; they want you to back down. An adult racoon can do great harm to a human. I also learned that their droppings carry a type of leukemia devastating to humans.
One day at noon I saw one of the furry invaders peering intently at me from our roof top. I realized something was wrong. Raccoons are nocturnal and wouldn’t be out at noon unless…of course…..the footsteps at night…. They were living in the attic of our house!
I immediately embarked on a futile search for a city, county or state agency to come and get rid of them. There are all kinds of organizations who deal with wildlife, but none is interested in catching an adult raccoon for a homeowner. If there is a litter of kits they will come for them, but if it’s older raccoons, you’re on your own, always with the stern instructions, “don’t harm them.”
After days on the phone I finally reached a state biologist who assured me that I probably had a mama raccoon returning to her place of birth to drop her kits. That is their custom. She explained how they reach through the large vents on the end of your attic and rip the protective screen off with their human-like paws. They only need six inches to shove their head between the vents and then squeeze their chubby bodies into your home, soon to be theirs. No qualifying and nothing down.
I soon developed a close friendship with the State biologist as we tried her daily suggestions on how to rid our home of these squatters. We baited a cat trap with tuna tied in a bag in the cage. We papered over the vents so we would know if they left. We spread flour on the roof below to check for footprints every day. Each morning I tapped on the ceiling of the corner of each room to see if they were still up there. To my dismay, I’d hear the shifting bodies as I disturbed their sleep under the rafters.
After tiring of uninvited revelers partying in our attic every night, my husband decided pay a visit to the guest quarters. Armed with his weapon of choice, a large can of insect repellent, he crawled on his stomach as far back towards their cozy nest as he could and emptied the can. A large raccoon ran toward him. He threw up his arm, yelled and it veered off and away.
After a few days of checking the trap and vents, we covered the vents with hardware screen. It became obvious the raccoon and her relatives had moved out of our penthouse apartment.
Several evenings later, while watching TV in another room, I heard the screen door to the balcony rattle. Checking, I found it slid open about five inches. I saw a very pregnant mama raccoon and two young ones scurry away. The mama then stopped and stared at me. Later she opened the screen door again.
My husband went outside and gave her a surprise soaking with the hose. She seemed to accept the fact that she was not going to drop her kits inside our house this time and waddled laboriously down the steps.
We still saw her and her little ones at dusk from time to time; and later that year we heard that the next neighbor down the street was having terrible time with raccoons.