The Raucous Return of Rocky Raccoon, Revised

11 Sep

by Roger White  

 

Rocky Raccoon climbed back in his room

Looking for means of survival.

 

The return of Rocky Raccoon to the attic of our little domicile has signaled several things: the advent of somewhat cooler weather; the onset of sleeping in fits and starts as this nocturnal nuisance incessantly scratches and breakdances and jogs and does whatever the hell he does up there all night; and an unsettling revisit of what I can only term my “less-than-manly guilt” (LTMG).

For years now, I have tried in vain to drive Rocky and his pals from their seasonal crash pad, only to hear the party noises wafting from the attic vents come every September. (Raccoon rap is the worst, by the way: “Pawin’ thru the gobbage is so wack that’s fo rizzle, A tub o’ kitty grub get ya crunk make ya fizzle…”)

You name it, I’ve used it: fox urine, wolf urine, Lady Gaga urine, traps, baits, snares, all-night talk radio, strobe lights, Ouija sessions. Nothing works. I even had a couple of “experts” come out and climb all over and under the house—on a paid basis, mind you—only to tell me it’s a complete mystery to them how the oversized rodents are getting in.

The experts came in, saw where Rocky had been,

And gave Rodge the bill for their “assistance.”

They said, Roger, you met your match,

And I said, nope, this little devil I’ll catch,

If I can only find his path of least resistance, yeeahhh!

 

Anyway. I’ve actually toyed with the notion of buying a pellet gun and staying up in the attic all night covered in camo, a la Caddyshack. Except this would be Rockyshack. “License to kill raccoons.” Lack of sleep will do that to you. At 3:12 a.m., you find yourself subconsciously bopping to the raccoon rap and you picture having Rocky in your crosshairs.

A tumbleweed rolls across the attic floor, and the piano player stops playing. “Draw, Rocky.”

Nah. I could never own a firearm, not even just a baby one. This is not so much that I’m all anti-firearm; it’s that I know for certain that somehow I would be the first and only thing I would shoot by some ridiculous accident. I don’t like handling scissors even. Besides, raccoons are cute. Admit it. If possums or bats or maybe gila monsters infested our attic, I am certain I would take more decisive measures. Possums are not cute. Gila monsters’ faces aren’t decorated with adorable little bandit masks.

And this is where a creeping case of LTMG comes in. With every failed attempt to drive this cunning camper from our home, I feel a bit of erosion sanding down my domestic status as alpha male. I feel guilty—and a bit stupid, being outsmarted by a guy with a brain the size of a shriveled peach. As the dad and only male in a house full of females, it’s my job to (1) take out the trash and (2) rid the place of pests. Roaches, spiders, crickets, wasps, all that, I’m your man. But Rocky has me stumped. When he starts up his nightly rave, even the cat and dog look at me like, “Are you on this or what? Jeez, grow a pair.”

All right, all right. Enough is enough. I’ve tried everything else—even to the point of contemplating murder. But I guess it’s come down to this. Having exercised all other options available to me, I’ve decided the time for drastic action has come. Tonight, just before we go to bed, before Rocky makes his moonlight visit, I’m climbing up in the attic and I’m leaving it there. Rocky will have to see it. I can only hope he understands I had no other choice.

I’m charging him rent.

 

And now Rocky Raccon fell back in his room

Only to find payment due.

So Rocky checked out and elected no doubt

To bid this good family adieu. Yeaah!!

Doo do do do do do do doo, doo….

 

Roger White is a freelance writer living in Austin, Texas, with his lovely wife, two precocious daughters, a very fat dachshund, and a self-absorbed cat. For further adventures, visit oldspouse.wordpress.com.

 

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7 Responses to “The Raucous Return of Rocky Raccoon, Revised”

  1. keiththegreen September 11, 2012 at 1:26 pm #

    I had a friend who had the same problem. You even mention the way he evicted his unwanted freeloading guests. He put speakers in the attic and when the party started he provided free music, rap music, and any other music with clangs, and other loud noises. It took about two weeks but the partiers found quieter accommodation. As my friend said, he was already awake so the music although not his type, was worth listening too.

    • oldspouse September 11, 2012 at 1:37 pm #

      i hear ya, Keith, I hear ya. (unfortunately, i hear rocky, too, all too well)

  2. Rpope827@yahoo.com September 11, 2012 at 4:55 pm #

    You need my short .22 and some rat shot. When blasted get ready to follow the escape path for permanent resolution. I bet it is Rockette Raccoon not Rocky. Have you seen babies?? Whit rat shot in case of a accident it would hurt like hell but no major tissue damage.

  3. kalabalu September 12, 2012 at 9:31 am #

    welcome but be silent…..

  4. freedlife September 13, 2012 at 10:16 pm #

    There’s a lot of nails showing in the photo of the coon. You’re not a good shot, are you????

    • oldspouse September 14, 2012 at 10:36 am #

      funny! actually, those were warning shots across his bow.

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