I've been thinking about blogging and a few people have suggested it. I wasn't sure. I guess I was waiting for a sign. This morning my sign came in the form of my husband. Stomp, stomp, stomp down the hall to the bedroom at 5:30 am informing me "YOU locked a raccoon in the garage last night and he tore up the garage!! He even tore off the door frame!!!". Stomp, stomp, stomp. I'm thinking to myself: "Is the raccoon out and if he is what difference will it make if I work on the mess at 5:30 am or 7:30 am? Go away UGH!!!". Does he think I went out there and said "Hello are there any raccoons in here? Oh there are 2 of you? Good deal!!! Please spend the night cuz I like nothing better than almost puking over the smell of your poop at 5:30 am. See you in the morning!"." I have no choice but to drag my butt out of bed and check on the damage knowing full well that my husband tends to...well...exaggerate (I had to look this up because I had no clue how to spell it. Exaggerate is one weird looking word) about these things. And just for the record, I am not, in any sense of the imagination, never have been, never will be a morning person!!!
So I stomp, stomp, stomp to the garage and sure enough there is a mess, not a "torn the garage to hell mess" but a mess complete with poop and pee. I of course I'm just am not sure it's poop so I...oh crap I need shoes...go investigate and I'll tell you raccoon poop will send you gagging at any time of day. As for why this stupid jerk of a raccoon just had to pee on the plastic storage bucket is beyond me.
We decide to leave the poop until it dries a bit. It's just easier that way and don't ask how I know this please. My husband turns to leave for work and we hear some movement coming from somewhere in the garage. Is it Gracie our outside cat? (Please don't judge me. She is a working girl and wants nothing to do with coming in the house unless there is cheese involved. Gracie prefers the coolness of the swamp on the hot summer days to the air conditioning of the house.) We can't figure out what is moving so my husband leaves for the day. Thanks honey. I'll just stand here in my night gown and take care of it. Not to worry.
I decide I need to start some coffee and get dressed. Whatever is out there won't come out with me standing there. 15 minutes later I hear some rumbling out there and see a second raccoon climbing up the red folding chairs and dangling to reach the shelves. I guess the 1st raccoon left when my husband opened the garage door. I wait to see if he is going to change his mind and get the heck outta my garage but no...he climbs right up to the top shelf and parks himself on top of the cage I use to transport our cats to the vet and curls up in a ball to take a nap. Apparently he's had a long night. I think he picked the cage just to say "Ha ha! I'm on the cage and you can't do anything it!!!". JERK
Hahaha... Love the part where your husband leaves you standing in your nightgown to take care of the mess! Sooo typical!!!! :) Funny stuff Kathy!
ReplyDeleteHey thanks so much. Ya do have to life at life's little adventures. Think how bad my husband would have felt if a rabid raccoon attacked me right after he left? It would serve him right lol.
ReplyDeleteOh, Kathy, I use to have a pet raccoon, we didn't keep him caged but, he stayed around and hibernated in the winter, I feel your pain of raccoon poop, it is nasty, and I think you have the right idea to let it dry it will be easier to clean up. I too have a husband that exaggerates, I feel your pain, here's hoping the raccoon's get away and stay away. As always love your stories, glad you made a blog. :)
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed the ending - haha, I'm on the cage and nothing you can do about it - You are a good writer, Kathy!
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