another raccoon story

Y’all need to bear with me on this one (no pun intended) because it takes a little sidetrack.

When I first moved to Austin in 1989 I lived in an apartment on Waller Creek in Hyde Park.  It had one big room with a kitchen upstairs and a big open room downstairs with a bathroom and fireplace.  The whole place was nothing but windows overlooking the creek; the big crank windows with no screens that so many of the old houses have in the South.  This was also my introduction to the tree roach, which I will address in a future post because I just can’t talk about it right now.
One night my partner and I were sleeping upstairs when we heard a commotion down below.  We both sat bolt upright in bed and held our breaths in terror.  The noises continued so we looked around for something, anything, to protect ourselves with.  My partner landed on a heavy glass ashtray and I grabbed the nearest thing I could find, the cat.
We promptly dialed 911 and told the operator about our intruder and she sent two officers out to investigate.  When they arrived they asked us if we had any weapons in the house.  My partner said she had an ashtray and I squeezed the cat to show I meant business.  We all started our careful decent toward the crazed maniac downstairs when all of a sudden there came a loud pounding/scratching on the inside of the pantry about halfway down the stairs.
One of the officers slowly eased the door open to find a frightened raccoon stuck between the pantry door and the wall.  Everyone shrieked and then had a good laugh.  Everyone except the cat, who I’m pretty sure I strangled.  Well, almost.

*As a side note: While looking for a picture to include with this post, I came across this series of photos.  Enjoy.

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The devil is in the details.

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