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Welcoming A New Addition to our Home

Updated on November 15, 2014
Sallie Mullinger profile image

Sallie is a retired mother and grandmother who has written short stories for most of her life. Her stories are from her heart to yours.

Looking back atcha!

I was hoping for a quiet, peaceful and relaxing Saturday night. What I got was anything but

And so the story goes.....

Minding our own business..Mike and Shannon watching TV, me getting comfy and settled after a long day in Cincinnati with DIL and cousin, pouring over endless church records on the never-ending family tree quest, when I decided to go outside on the front porch to call for Shadow, one of our cats.

I thought perhaps he might be in the garage, so I opened the door to see if he had gotten trapped in there. No Shadow. As I turned to go back inside, I looked into the study window which faces the front of the house and saw what I thought was one of my cats sitting on the TV in the study. Didnt look like Shadow because Shadow is an all black Tuxedo cat. Kinda looked like Annabelle who is a grey and white tabby. But Im standing there wondering what shes doing on top of the television. Oh so..curious me, I moved closer to the window and at the exact, appropriate moment (appropriate because there was a cue somewhere for a scream to occur) the thing that wasnt Annabelle and was sitting on top of my television, turned its head and looked straight out at me and yep, you guessed was a raccoon.

I am sure that they could hear me screeching 5 counties away. "RACCOON! RACCOON! IN THE STUDY!! RACCOON! RACCOON! MIKE! MIKE! IN THE STUDY!". Now, I have NO idea, at this point, what Mike was doing because I wasnt about to go back in that house with a raccoon setting up residence inside in order to find out.

I think Mike was probably running around bat-shit crazy trying to figure out why his bat-shit crazy wife was outside, screaming like a banshee and wondering what the hell to do about a raccoon sitting on top of the television in the study.

He flings the storm door open, tells me to get inside (Oh! HELL NO!) and explains that wherever the raccoon is, its good to have doors open so that he can find an escape route.

For weeks we have been hearing a scratching sound above the master bedroom which is an add-on to the original house. I swear I thought that whatever it was up there was trying to claw its way thru the bathroom vent the other night.

Mike thought it was probably a squirrel, but I thought it sounded like a much bigger animal. And uh, bigger it was.

Mike slammed the door of the study shut...YAY! And then UGH! trapping Rocky inside and here is where the story goes completely bizzarro (yes, I know, you thought it already WAS bizzarro). Here is how our unwanted and unwelcomed and definitely uninvited guest found his way into the study in the first place.

The raccoon was trapped in the attic and either jumped on or somehow pushed the trapdoor of the attic open. Down he came (kinda like Santa Claus only this wasnt a chimney and the raccoon wasnt bearing gifts and he wasnt exactly jolly).

I guess he saw the study first and decided to high tail it in there. BIG mistake Bud! Thats MY room and I had literally just come home, laid my car keys down on my desk, turned the PC on, and was about to sit down and check emails etc.

I can only guess at what might be left of me had I actually been sitting there when that varmint came flying out of the attic and into the study. The mental image I have conjured involves things I wont mention for the sake of decency and delicacy.

We called the police. They came. They conquered. But not before that !$!@*$^%! practically destroyed the room.

The female cop and I were on the porch watching Rocky thru the window, as he absolutely destroyed the study. He wanted out as badly as we wanted him out. He was climbing the walls. No pun intended because that is literally what he was doing.

At one point he was hanging from the heating vent near the ceiling. He was picking up books, the ones he had knocked to the floor, in his mouth and thrashing them around. He had an extension cord in his mouth (Mike said "good, maybe he'll get rid of himself, by himself"). He knocked a box of family photos over and was scratching at them. And we stared in serious disbelief as he stood, on hind legs, and was trying to turn the knob of the study door. I almost fainted when I saw the doorknob turn a bit.

The two cops (who, btw, werent exactly Nick and Nora Charles) devised a plan on how to get Rocky out of the study. Oh noooooo! I didnt just want him out of the study! I wanted him out of the house. Out of the neighborhood. In fact, I wanted him hell and away to Timbuktu!

Instead of using the lasso loop thingy they use to put the critter in a cage, which they said is difficult to do ( and who am I to question them? I dont have a degree in capturing raccoons) they decided to use a plastic trash can of ours, lure him into that, and then slam the lid shut and throw him outside.

I was all for getting in my car and exiting stage left before they attempted their plan until I realized my car keys were in the study. They were probably the one item that Rocky hadnt trashed or had in his mouth or pawed all over.

So Mike and I (dont ask where Shannon was at this point), closed all exit doors except the front door, we barricaded the living room entrance from the foyer and we stood ready to do God knows what if that damned creature had come running at us.

It turned out that Rocky had crammed his fat body (this was no small raccoon) between the shutters on the inside of the windows and the windows themselves. I will never know how the male cop managed to get his hand on the casement window handle to open that window, but out Rocky flew and down the hill and I hope to God he finds his family or his wife or his mother and father and they all live happily ever after...As long as its in someone else's house!

P.S. Rocky left me a going away gift. A small memento of time spent with us. Lysol was involved. Ugh.

"checked into his room"


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