Forget about bats in the belfry.
We have raccoons in our window well.
A sunken hole that opens out from our basement window, to a dark, bleak space under the deck.
A bad design on the part of the builder.
Indeed, the window well is adjacent to, if not very nearly directly under, the sliding glass door that opens out to the back yard from the dining room.
A very bad design on the part of the builder.
No matter.
A very large, very nice deck was built overtop, so one walks out those sliding glass doors to a humungous wooden area, complete with lovely pergola.
There are two sets of steps down to the garden.
And several areas where various animals are able to make their way under the deck to shelter from the weather.
We have seen bunnies go under there.
And now raccoons.
And somehow, the raccoons have seen fit to occupy our window well, leaning their massive furry bodies up against the glass, muddying it with their huge paws.
They have already made light work of the screen. It has long since been shredded into oblivion with their claws.
Perhaps trying to get into the warmth; perhaps unsure what this invisible glass barrier was that was getting between them and what was beyond.
Can they smell the cat food?
They became so disconcerting, sometimes banging around during a hockey game, heaven forbid, that hubby decided to barricade the window well so they would not be able to get into it.
Several wooden slats were arranged so that they would be unable to access the space; screwed to the underneath of the deck joists so that they were firmly set as a wall.
Yes, hubby built a wall.
But the raccoons would not be deterred.
Turns out, one of the wooden walls was not secured strongly enough for the raccoons.
They were able to squeeeeeeeeeeze their massive furry frames between the side of the metal window well and the wooden board.
It did not look comfortable.
I would not have believed it would have been possible had I not seen it with my own eyes.
There, as I watched one morning through the window, one of the two raccoons, perhaps motivated by my flashlight and disturbed by my presence, carefully, artfully, pulled the board towards her and then squeezed her furry self past it, squishing up to the window in doing so, and then up, up, and out - under the deck.
Her pal had already found the way out, and was waiting for her on the lawn.
We thought that was that; they were good as gone,
But oh, no.
Then she was back.
We heard the wood bang as it was jarred against the metal.
Was she hoping to have some babies in that window well?
It was a beautiful sunny day; shouldn't she be out and about, at the very least under the deck, and not stuck in some dank window well?
I am on active "raccoon watch" now.
Hubby does not believe the glass will break; nor that they will compromise the window and freefall into the basement.
Let's hope that is the case.
In the meantime, we are on edge, closing the door to the basement overnight, barring the cats from their litter boxes down there until the raccoons have left the building.
I am both excited and aghast at their boldness, their ability to squeeze both into and out of such a tiny, tiny space.
We are on raccoon vigilance patrol.
Let's hope they decide to vacate the premises of their own accord, after which we will shore up the wooden barricades even more so.
If not, well, we know a guy.