One night as we are drifting off to sleep, we hear a loud noise from above us. After listening for several minutes to bumps and growls and possibly moans, my husband deduced that we had a pair of raccoons mating in the attic. I don't know what annoyed him more, the fact they were in our attic or that they were getting more action than he was.
A few phone calls and several hundred dollars later, the rutting raccoons were trapped and driven out to the countryside and their attic access through the eaves was sealed up.
A few weeks later when Rob went out back to let in the dog, he noticed another big raccoon and went after it. He was gone a long time and when he finally returned through the front door he asked if I had heard a noise. I had in fact heard a bang, but in our house that's not unusual. How the fuck was I supposed to know he'd fallen off the roof in pursuit of the raccoon?
P.S. No animals nor humans were hurt in the making of this blog
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