Skip to main content

Raccoons In The Window Well

  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.

Popular posts from this blog

The Best Kept Secret

  When I was first hired by CKVR-TV as an anchor and reporter back in 1993, I was living in a small apartment in Richmond Hill. I was happy to commute back and forth in my little Honda Civic, up and down Highway 400. There was no way I was moving up to Barrie. That was farm country. Where the rubes lived. It even had a Co-op store, where country bumpkins bought their farm feed and supplies. The only culture that city had was agriculture. Imagine! I was better than that! I had been born and raised in the thriving metropolis of Oakville, then we moved to Brampton when I was a teenager.   I even lived in Montreal for several years while in my roaring twenties, for goodness sake!  La creme de la creme of culture and sophistication! Well, after three long years of driving up and down that Highway 400, surviving snow storms and other harrowing highway experiences, I succumbed. In 1996, I moved up. Literally and figuratively. And I have, sinc...

Hostage Taking

 Dear Mrs. Raccoon; I would like my garden back please. I know you are raising your five adorable babies in the window well under our deck. I know you need a safe space to do so, and thought that would be suitable. Well, you have worn out your welcome. I am sure they are big enough to move along to a suitable forest. I know one just down the street. I realize they are still nursing on you. I can see you all through our basement window. A clear view of your nursery. And yes, your babies are cute beyond reason. Snuggly and cuddly and who wouldn't want to just pick them up and kiss them to death. It is you, Mrs. Raccoon, who has put the fear of god into me. I am afraid of you, to be quite frank. Ever since that afternoon last week when I was enjoying a snack out on the back deck. I saw you out the corner of my eye, as you came up onto the deck and wanted some of that snack! Thankfully I had a broom handy - just in case - and was able to wave you away. ...

Two Cents

 Another letter came in the mail the other day. Another notification from the TD Bank regarding my father's estate. He had passed away more than two years ago, and yet these letters still arrive in the mail. After having closed everything out, completed all the required tasks of his estate, carrying out all the executrix duties that I was appointed with, this one last account keeps on keeping on. Every few months I am notified by this letter that there are $.02 cents left remaining in this RRIF account. An account that I know that I closed down and dispersed. An account that should have long ago been shuttered and done away with. But no. There it is. A constant reminder that my dad has passed away, and that there are $.02 cents left remaining in this particular RRIF account. I have tried calling and emailing the bank, to no avail. This notice persists on being mailed and delivered. And so I have come to think of it as my dad's two cents. He is still gi...