Ice, Ice Baby in Second Life

France Portnawak (moderate)

The story you are about to read is true. If you don’t wish to know about (or be forced to envy) my glamorous physical life, just look at the photos and then read Ziki’s post about France Portnawak. I chose this backdrop for my tale in part because it’s cold (and that’s an important aspect of this narrative), and in part because it looks really nice. The cold, though, was the clincher.

It happened in the middle of the night. I had collapsed, exhausted, after finishing a huge project and was enjoying some well deserved sleep, when the combined weight of 35 pounds of cat jumped on me heading towards the window sill.

There’s a shed at the side of the house, near my room, and something was pulling itself up on top of it. Something heavy. I joined the watchfelines and saw the shadow of a huge raccoon moving up to the roof of the house. Remember, as you follow along now, I’m half asleep (which means only partly sentient).

France Portnawak (moderate)

I started to worry because I figured he was going to look for a way into the attic. This is not where I want him and his family to live. I concluded that I should dissuade him from this venture and encourage him to move to prospective den sites elsewhere.

The only time I’ve succeeded in chasing away raccoons was with a hose I used to force two mating animals out of a big tree. They landed on a car and ran away. Foolishly deciding to try the same approach again, I got dressed and headed outside.

I started in the backyard because I could hear him on that side of the house. Unfortunately, the hose is still unhooked after the winter and, although I did my best, my fumbling was not successful in re-attaching it. So I grabbed the power nozzle and headed back, through the house, to the front yard.

France Portnawak (moderate)

A few minutes later I was standing on the lawn trying to spray water over the roof in a manner which would convince this jerk to leave. I couldn’t see because the floodlights I’d turned on had blinded me. Although the hose was working, I hadn’t done a good job of attaching the nozzle so I was getting soaked. There I was, in the dark, dripping wet, trying to shield my eyes with one hand while adjusting the nozzle and aiming with the other, as the ice cold water went everywhere but towards the target.

The cats watched from the window.

I decided I’d probably succeeded when the “break in” sounds stopped. After peeling off the wet clothes, and using two towels to mop up the water, you can imagine how displeased I was when the noises resumed.

This time, wearing a dry set of clothes, I headed into the back yard determined to get that hose functional.

It took some time, and a lot of swearing, but I finally got water to come out of the rubber tube. I didn’t have the power nozzle, but I was so pissed off by this time that I didn’t care.

France Portnawak (moderate)

I pulled the hose out into the yard, so I could aim up onto the roof, and discovered that he had been sitting on the edge watching me. He didn’t look terribly concerned. At this point my world morphed from a stupid sitcom to a very pale imitation of a Clint Eastwood movie.

I looked at him, looking at me, and said (very loudly) “OK Asshole!”, put my thumb over the end of the hose, aimed at his head, and fired. He didn’t move for a few seconds which concerned me (I knew by this time how cold that water was), so for some reason I thought wiggling it would prove more intimidating. Honestly, my brain cells were just frozen cubes.

The cats watched through the back door.

After what seemed like a very long time, he slowly turned around and moved off into the dark recesses of the roof. I added more wet clothes to the pile and soaked another couple of towels.

I didn’t go back to sleep until 30 minutes later when he finally descended back down off the roof. Tonight I’ll have the hoses ready and some dry clothes set out. I’ll also watch Dirty Harry again, just in case.

France Portnawak (moderate)
Leave a comment


    • LOL no but thanks :) They have a set of regular routes that get switched every few weeks. One of them is through this yard, but they don’t usually do much more than just use it as a path.
      The next door neighbour has build a new fence between our yards which is tall enough for the raccoon to use to get onto the roof.
      I’m thinking barbed wire. :)

  1. And here are a few more techniques for getting the critters out, and keeping them out.

  2. LOL! Omg. I needed this. (Of course I’m laughing *with* you and not *at* you. Like your cats.) I had a similar recent story, inside, with a spider that (no lie) was the size of a big saucer, being naked and a vacuum cleaner. I, too, have a cat. I’ll leave it at that. Thanks for the great story.

  3. Laughing so hard, not at you though. Too funny♥

  4. Rhianon Jameson

     /  May 16, 2014

    “Do you feel lucky, punk? Well, do ya?”

    The lesson that I learned from that story is that your cats are *not* pulling their weight. It’s time for you to renegotiate their deal.

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