Did you know that raccoons chatter? I didn‘t, that is until we found five in the attic at “D” Farm. Believe it or not we have heard “critters” moving about in the attic and in the walls at “D” Farm during most of our visits over the last several years. We have never been certain what they were but speculated that they might be anything from mice or rats to squirrels, raccoons, skunks or opossums.
We have tried locating various possible points of entry and sealed those off to no avail. We actually thought we had it handled when we had several trees near the house removed two years ago, guessing that whomever it was had been jumping from the trees onto the second story roof and entering somewhere above.
Although it was quiet when I first arrived on “D” Farm this spring, by June it had become quite obvious that Guillie, Tipsy and I were not alone. I finally spotted the culprits one afternoon, peeking out at me from a vent in the soffit beneath the eve, over the kitchen window. There appeared three of the cutest little faces, all in a row, looking down; unmistakably baby raccoons.
Before the day was over, one found himself on the ground below. He went for cover when he spotted me there on the patio watching him. He went right for the old dryer vent by the back door to the sealed off portion of the house. It was almost big enough for him to squeeze through….almost big enough. While his little behind dangled precariously out of the entry in plain view, his front end was equally exposed from inside the house where the hose had detached from the wall. Oh, what to do?
It was time to call neighbor Kelley who came right away toting her trusty cage. We managed to push the little guy back out of the vent, the same way he had tried to go in but he eluded capture. We set the trap with food and water and leaned a panel of wood against the hole in the soffit hoping to encourage the others to come down, too.
The next morning the trap had been sprung and there inside sat mama raccoon.
It was obvious that she wasn’t particularly happy about it but then neither would one expect her to be. For the most part she laid very quietly but with a watchful eye as I moved about. I knew when she thought I was too close because she would hiss at me like an angry cat.
On the other hand, the little one that we had tried to coral the night before was climbing on and around the cage purring and chattering to his mom, trying to get closer to her. Before the day was over a second baby was down from the attic, playing with the first one. They were as cute and playful as can be, like a couple of kittens. There was a tremendous temptation to touch one. I can see why people befriend them and try to keep them as pets.
In order to catch those two we set a second trap with a bowl of food and water, right next to mom’s. After two days, they hadn’t yet tripped the cage even though they were dancing in and out eating and drinking at will. They simply weren’t heavy enough to cause it to close. So Kelley and I braced the lid open ourselves and watched for the moment when they were both inside, quickly letting the door close.
In the meantime we learned that there were actually still two babies, one on the ground and one still up in the attic. Those last two were either not as adventurous or they were more frightened than the others and their behavior showed it. Catching them would be even more of a challenge.
At that point, having no additional cages, we had to deal with the raccoons we had already caught. Under the direction of Kelley’s folks, we loaded up the cages and took off . We drove a number of miles north to a quiet wooded area near a creek. Mama coon took off right away and we assume waited a safe distance away while we released the babies. They required a little more encouragement to leave the shelter of the cage. We wished them well and headed back to “D” Farm.
It took another two days to roundup numbers 3 and 4. Those two acted completely different than their siblings. Once trapped they were like little Tasmanian devils, fast and vicious, growling and attacking the side of the cage whenever I got close. But we managed to take them safely to the same release point as the others, hoping they would soon be reunited…. And that my attic would remain unoccupied.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Critters Down on "D Farm"
There are plenty of critters in Kansas. When I say “critters” I don’t mean dogs or cats, horses or cattle, goats or sheep. And I should make it perfectly clear that I don’t consider critters a derogatory term; they aren’t bad. They are the indigenous wildlife. Because they were here first, I think we have a responsibility to at least attempt to coexist peacefully, even though we may sometimes find ourselves at cross-purposes.
One of the first “critters” I saw here on “D” Farm this spring was an opossum. Actually Guillie spotted it first. It was about midnight when he started growling from where he had been sleeping at the foot of my bed. Then he went to the slider door and started barking. It was pitch black out. I turned on the outside light but saw nothing at the time.
Guillie settled down after awhile but started up again within the hour. This time when I hit the light I saw it too. An opossum about the same size as Guillie, scurrying along across the yard about 15 feet from the slider door.
My first thought was, “How do I catch it?” I remembered that my neighbor Kelley has a live trap, similar to but larger than those we use in California to capture those pesky ground squirrels who constantly undermine the property with their burrowing.
I credit Henry David Thoreau for inspiring my second thought: “is there any reason we can’t just get along?” * I don’t know if possums do anything particularly good but, other than going after eggs, chickens or kittens (of which I had none….at the time), they don’t do anything bad so perhaps we can get along. I decided to leave him/her alone, providing he stayed outdoors, of course.
The same goes for mice. They can be mighty cute but they have no business in the house. And when you live out in the country, they are in the house ALL THE TIME! It is something we have struggled with for years using all types of contraptions, the most effective of which is my new cat, Tipsy.
Mice have done a lot of damage over the years at “D” Farm, chewing through anything they can sink their teeth into including all forms of paper, plastic, and cloth. Last year while I was going through some dressers upstairs, I opened a drawer and there was a little brown mouse with huge black eyes looking up at me, every bit as surprised as I was. “Oh, excuse me!” I said, closing the drawer again just as quickly. I felt as though I had just accidentally walked into someone’s private boudoir.
Moving right along: I don’t even like talking about snakes. I recall my grandmother going after one out in the garden with a hoe with great fervor when I was very young. Only once have I found one in the house. Neither I nor anyone in the household was willing to remove it so we closed the door to the room and waited for my brother to come for a visit to trap it. That was a matter of weeks later!
Here on “D” Farm, as in California, there are good snakes and bad snakes or, more accurately stated, useful snakes and dangerous snakes. I’ve actually seen my share of rattlesnakes in California, one of which struck my Jack Russell Terrier who, by the grace of God (after $1000 in vet bills) survived the experience. In Kansas I have heard horror stories about the cotton mouth water moccasin, copperheads, and prairie rattlers. But the more prevalent species like the black snake and rat snake are not only harmless, they keep the rodent population in check. So I try to keep my paranoia under control and make the effort to differentiate those that are ok from the others, once again so long as they STAY OUT OF THE HOUSE.
.
And then there are raccoons. See critters part two….coming soon.
*I have referred to Henry David Thoreau because I was reading Walden at the time of my opossum observation. In it Thoreau chronicles his experience living with nature for 22 months on the shore of Walden Pond, in Concord, Massachusetts.
One of the first “critters” I saw here on “D” Farm this spring was an opossum. Actually Guillie spotted it first. It was about midnight when he started growling from where he had been sleeping at the foot of my bed. Then he went to the slider door and started barking. It was pitch black out. I turned on the outside light but saw nothing at the time.
Guillie settled down after awhile but started up again within the hour. This time when I hit the light I saw it too. An opossum about the same size as Guillie, scurrying along across the yard about 15 feet from the slider door.
My first thought was, “How do I catch it?” I remembered that my neighbor Kelley has a live trap, similar to but larger than those we use in California to capture those pesky ground squirrels who constantly undermine the property with their burrowing.
I credit Henry David Thoreau for inspiring my second thought: “is there any reason we can’t just get along?” * I don’t know if possums do anything particularly good but, other than going after eggs, chickens or kittens (of which I had none….at the time), they don’t do anything bad so perhaps we can get along. I decided to leave him/her alone, providing he stayed outdoors, of course.
The same goes for mice. They can be mighty cute but they have no business in the house. And when you live out in the country, they are in the house ALL THE TIME! It is something we have struggled with for years using all types of contraptions, the most effective of which is my new cat, Tipsy.
Mice have done a lot of damage over the years at “D” Farm, chewing through anything they can sink their teeth into including all forms of paper, plastic, and cloth. Last year while I was going through some dressers upstairs, I opened a drawer and there was a little brown mouse with huge black eyes looking up at me, every bit as surprised as I was. “Oh, excuse me!” I said, closing the drawer again just as quickly. I felt as though I had just accidentally walked into someone’s private boudoir.
Moving right along: I don’t even like talking about snakes. I recall my grandmother going after one out in the garden with a hoe with great fervor when I was very young. Only once have I found one in the house. Neither I nor anyone in the household was willing to remove it so we closed the door to the room and waited for my brother to come for a visit to trap it. That was a matter of weeks later!
Here on “D” Farm, as in California, there are good snakes and bad snakes or, more accurately stated, useful snakes and dangerous snakes. I’ve actually seen my share of rattlesnakes in California, one of which struck my Jack Russell Terrier who, by the grace of God (after $1000 in vet bills) survived the experience. In Kansas I have heard horror stories about the cotton mouth water moccasin, copperheads, and prairie rattlers. But the more prevalent species like the black snake and rat snake are not only harmless, they keep the rodent population in check. So I try to keep my paranoia under control and make the effort to differentiate those that are ok from the others, once again so long as they STAY OUT OF THE HOUSE.
.
And then there are raccoons. See critters part two….coming soon.
*I have referred to Henry David Thoreau because I was reading Walden at the time of my opossum observation. In it Thoreau chronicles his experience living with nature for 22 months on the shore of Walden Pond, in Concord, Massachusetts.
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