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a blog by Kate Kaput
We have a raccoon. Did you hear me? We have a goddamn raccoon.
OK, OK, maybe I'm exaggerating. It's not like there's a raccoon inside our house - completely, anyway.
Wait, let me back up.
Last month, Mike & I invited a few friends over to hang out on our new deck (which is glorious, by the way) when I spotted a smallish raccoon skittering across our neighbor's roof. The raccoon was about the size of my cat (who weighs 15 lbs., so maybe my cat is actually the size of a raccoon?), & it was just, like, wandering around. In daylight.
The other day, Mike spotted the raccoon again - on our deck. While he was out there. They stared each other down, & the raccoon backed off, scooting away to some unknown critter den.
Except what if the den is inside our walls?
On Saturday morning, we were awakened by a very loud scrabbling noise. At first, I thought it was the cat being a jerk, as he is sometimes want to do, until I realized that he was staring at me, terrified & mesmerized by the noise. Then I thought it was coming from the deck, until I realized the deck doesn't connect to our bedroom wall. And then I thought it was on the roof, until I realized there's an attic above us. That means this thing, whatever it was, was not on the deck or the roof but, yes, inside the walls. (I am quite sure of this, though Mike is less confident; then again, he kept snoozing through most of it.)
And then, the kicker. On Monday, nervous that a raccoon is lurking in the walls behind my headboard, I wandered the deck looking for any sign of how it might've gotten in - a hole, a loose shingle? I don't know how houses work, man. I didn't find anything like that, but I did find five piles of raccoon scat (that's shit, for all you non-outdoorsy people) neatly crapped upon the roof that borders our deck. I took a picture of it, but you're welcome for my not including it here.
So, yeah, I emailed our landlord yesterday. Obviously. And I think I was very calm & professional about it, considering the fact that I am now convinced that Meeko or Bandito or Bright Heart or whatever this little dude goes by is about to bust through my bedroom wall, Kool-Aid Man-style, yelling "Oh, yeahhh" & eating all my snacks & strangling my cat with his creepy, bare raccoon hands.
You guys. Who finds a freaking raccoon in their apartment complex? What's next, a deer on the deck? A bear in the basement? Damn, Cleveland. This is not the city life I was promised.
P.S.: That photo isn't our raccoon. That's Pumpkin, beloved Instagram star & Internet icon. Pumpkin can come to my apartment any day, creepy hands & all.
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