A facebook friend of mine asked me if I would repost this...

A facebook friend of mine asked me if I would repost this post this entry.  I have been so busy recently that recycling a post seems logical to me!  I am almost finished with a book I am writing, then I will return to my blogging with more regularity. 
She told me of all the things I have written (does that include my
books?) that this is by far her favorite and should somehow become a
book.



What do you think?



As my trees
are so heavy laden with blossoms and I envision a HUGE BUMPER CROP of
peaches and apples this year, as long as the squirrels don't interfere, I
am wondering if I should again set the trap out there???



The
post below was originally put up last summer. The reason I have
reprised it is that it has happened again... Who knew raccoons would
fight squirrels for a cinnabon? For you, my readers, there is one thing
I want to make totally clear; I LOVE ANIMALS and the reason I am
trapping is to give them opportunity for a better life (there is an
awesome field nearby where the cottonwood trees shade my favorite
running path and a creek burbles noisily into a pond all summer long.
Food is ample and the opportunity to meet the opposite sex is much
better! The digs there are much more squirrel friendly than my back
yard. So I carefully move them from my yard to what to a squirrel has
to be heaven on earth in my wife's SUV, much to her dismay...

"Why don't you ever use your own for this?"
"Well, your SUV is wider and it is easier to move the trap in and out..."
EYE ROLL, SHOULDER SHRUG, DISMISSIVE LOOK (come on, you know the one my matrimonially embarked friends)

My
new neighbors have a BIG, new dog who loves to torment the critters in
our adjoining yards (and stomp all over my newly planted seedlings,
perhaps I need a bigger trap?) So the mother squirrel (a leftover from
last year) protects her next by jumping from tree to tree, chattering
angrily and tossing pine cones at his head. He is so enamoured with her
that he sticks around, usually long enough to ahem... relieve himself.
Did I mention he is a BIG dog? Further reason to simply get the
critters that draw him to our yard out of here!

My own Italian
Greyhound cannot stand to have the squirrels in our backyard and of
course the mother squirrel has built her nest in the pine tree right off
of my dog's favorite window so there is no doubt she is moving about
back there. I work at home and my dog DRIVES ME CRAZY RUNNING FROM
WINDOW TO WINDOW when they move about in the yard. But the BIGGEST
reason I simply must move them is my "peach orchard" which is bound to
have a bountiful harvest this year (still eating peach smoothies from
the peaches I froze last summer). The squirrels have a very annoying
habit. I actually wouldn't mind sharing a peach or two with them, we
have plenty, but what they do is climb the tree take a bite, toss it
down to the lawn, take another bite, toss it down to the lawn. Who
wants to eat a peach a squirrel slobbered on?

I think now that I
am up to 10 peach trees in my suburban neighborhood, I can call it an
orchard, so there must be squirrel memos that go out "PARTY AT THE
MATOTT'S! Peaches, all you can eat! Come on by for the open house!"

By
the way, I got a postcard from "RICKY", the dude pictured above. He
recently honeymooned in Cabo and is looking forward to getting back to
the "awesome place I left him" last summer. He will be happy to know he
is to be joined by another relocated raccoon today!



We
had a bear within a mile of our house yesterday. I wonder if he/she
knew about the grill (mentioned within this blog) and was coming back
for more. If there are going to be bears in the hood this summer, I
better get a bigger trap for sure!



Though
I didn't get comments on this posting last year, I got numerous emails
about it, all positive. I hope you enjoy it and LET THIS YEAR'S TRAP
TALLY BEGIN!





If
you read my earlier blog about catch and release you might not
recognize this little guy as the subject I was hoping to catch and
release and neither did I. This dude or dudette was apparently hanging
out in my backyard, unbeknownst to me likely feeding off my compost pile
and decided that he or she would rather enjoy the wonderful toast and
peanut butter spread I had left for one of the three million squirrels
already taking the peaches off our trees.





I
awakened one morning last week earlier than the sun and from my office
window, looking out over my back yard, I could tell that the trap had
closed during the night. It looked like something larger than a
squirrel was in there, but it was too dark to tell. I had visions of
SUPER SQUIRREL, a strange thirty pound Guinness World record holder
being held captive in my backyard. As the sun came up it became
apparent to me that I had likely caught one of my neighbor's cats and
not Super Squirrel. I was trying to write a chapter for one of my
upcoming chapter books but my curiosity kept my mind wandering. Then
when I walked out into the garden realizing simply by the sound coming
from the area where the trap was that this was no cat and this was no
squirrel. No, this was a hissing, angry raccoon who simply wanted a
little PBJ and then was hoping to be on his way... but got caught my
amateur trapper-bonehead yours truly.





Having
loved where the red fern grows and being permanently scarred by what a
raccoon will and can do to a dog or anyone else it decides to have a
beef with and having heard stories about how vicious these critters can
be when trapped I decided I needed help before I did anything about this
predicament. I went to the most reliable source I could find to
determine what to do... google.com. As I perused the page, it first
said: "UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCE SHOULD YOU TRAP YOUR OWN RACCOON, HIRE A
PROFESSIONAL AND DON'T BE A CHEAPSKATE!" Okay, I wasn't being cheap, I
didn't intend to trap this dude. Then the warnings about the likely
outcome of letting this angry dude go scared me even more. The website
actually tried to tell me the preferred method of relocation would be to
heaven. I am NOT going to harm an animal that simply wants to eat a
free PBJ and live freely, but that I don't want simply living in my
backyard, eating my garden's bounty and my orchard. SO... as I read on,
the website chided me further about being a cheapskate (it must have
been posted by someone who makes his or her living relocating animals
and doesn't like the novice trapper-releaser-relocator) and told me if I
insisted on doing this myself I should arm my self well and wish for
the best.




After
sufficiently feeling belittled and a bit frightened, I headed out into
the already 80 degree morning wearing heavy boots and socks, jeans, a
flannel shirt, heavy leather work gloves and a bandana tied around my
face (to ward off the websites warnings of distemper, plague and many
other possibilities if this dude simply coughs in my SUV as I am
relocating which can relocate me
to heaven). As I lifted the crate, he or she lunged at me, hissing and
making sure I understood that once released, he or she was aiming for
my carotid artery and I just might be spending my last summer moments on
earth.




I
carried the cage with a wildly gyrating and noisy raccoon as
outstretched from my body as possible and set it gently into the back of
my SUV. Did I mention the website also mentioned that it was illegal
in most states to relocate a raccoon? SO, here I was setting off to
commit a possible felony with a very angry, plague ridden animal in the
back of my SUV. I had all the windows down and the back door open so
air could flow backwards and keep his plaguey breath away from me. I
intended to do only California stops (a potential misdemeanor) so the
air couldn't double back and descend upon me in the way plague tends to
do, at least in my overactive imagination. I headed to a wonderfully
wooded area, near an elementary school where I imagined my angry buddy
living the good life and actually appreciating my thoughtfulness.
Perhaps he might even send me a Christmas card with a picture of his new
wife and family, all thanks to my kind desire to simply relocate him to
a place better suited for wildlife.




As
I eased my way down in to the elementary school parking lot and readied
myself for what was to possibly be the last moments of my life as I
knew it, I noticed another car descending into the parking lot too, the
difference between that car and mine was that it had sirens and the
words SHERIFF on the doors as well as a burly man in a uniform with a
"don't mess with me" look on his face. Here I was on an early-getting
hotter by the moment-morning, in the outfit I mentioned previously and
the bandana now tucked up into my hat to protect not only my airways,
but to pull up over my eyes in case this particular varmint preferred
eye gouging to simply chewing of skin and arteries. The sheriff pulled
around the parking lot and nodded at me like this was something he saw
every day. I nodded back and he looked at me like the next move was
mine.




SO
I waited a sufficient amount of time since our last eye-lock and
started my engine slowly easing my way out of the parking lot, having
pulled the bandana down as though just a neck decoration and holding my
breath for somewhere around ten minutes, he pulled up and stopped near
the exit to the parking lot and as I glided past him, back doors of the
SUV open, a chattering, banging raccoon giving my stereo a run for its
money, I gave him the "guy nod" and started into a neighborhood, where I
figured at the next vacant stop sign I would gift these people's pesky
squirrels with a little buddy to play with. It seemed like every four
way stop sign had four way busyness to keep me from exporting my little
friend so I drove on for what seemed like hours, sticking my head out
the window every time I inhaled through my bandana, taking huge gulps of
fresh, non plague or distemper tainted air.




Finally
I came to a HUGE open space with a running stream, lots of tall trees
and what seemed like the perfect place to let this dude out. Did I
mention that during this entire episode, the little guy was banging,
bending and screaming at ever increasing in volume intervals? I pulled
over, checked my mirrors and backed into a little dirt drive. I went to
the back, pulled the cage out, while holding the clawed garden hoe that
was to be my defense against the raccoon's attack. He was hissing,
jumping, banging and screaming at me. I got into the back of my SUV and
pulled the door as closed as I could in this awkward position, sticking
the hoe out through the few inches of open door and imagined him
running around the side of the vehicle and leaping into one of the open
windows, thus trapping me inside for my flesh tearing session. I
grabbed the catch that holds the trap shut with the hoe from inside the
SUV and pulled back, it went up about three inches and then crashed
down loudly clanging further enraging the possibly rabid raccoon, who
must have thought I was just toying with him.




Thoughts
of bullfighters and viciously angry bulls came to mind and how a
trapped bull will turn on the matador and then gore him, throwing him
ten feet into the air. Suddenly it seemed that this large cat-sized
raccoon could do just that. I pulled with all my might holding the cage
door open and he just sat there. I waited for what seemed like an
hour, my arms falling asleep, my heart beating so loud he must have
heard it, reminding me of the things I had heard about animals sensing
fear and capitalizing on it by tearing their captors in two.




Then
I did what anyone would do that wanted the raccoon to be calm when he
finally emerged from the trap, I began screaming at the top of my lungs,
"GO YOU BIG DUMMY, MOVE! GET OUT OF THERE!" Suddenly, he sprang into
action, he began to scurry out of the trap like a bat out of
H-E-Double-Toothpicks! A sense of relief overtook me as he emerged and
ran the opposite way of my SUV. Then just as I thought this little
mistaken episode was over, he stopped and turned, his yellow fangs
glinting in the sunlight and looked right into my eyes, which were just
slits behind the bandana. Did I mention I was drenched in sweat from
the heat, now approaching 110 degrees in the SUV covered by more clammy
sweat from sheer ice cold fear?




He
looked at me with intent. Suddenly I saw his little masked face and
couldn't help but think that he was awful darn cute. He nodded up and
down as though to say "Hey thanks a lot dude, this place is SWEET!"




He
jumped down the little concrete curb and scurried off into the tall
grass, his funny little body bumping up and down heading across the
field headed right for the tall cottonwood trees I had intended for him
to find. I pulled the bandana off my face and jumped out of the SUV and
shouted HAVE FUN DUDE! Then I stripped off the flannel shirt, pulled
off my boots and socks and headed for home (driving barefoot is at least
a misdemeanor).




That
night I had about three hundred dreams that the raccoon was on my front
porch, back porch, garage, bathroom, bedroom, kitchen and pretty much
everywhere else I frequented including my regular Starbucks! Believe it
or not, he was behind the counter waiting in cahoots with my regular
barista to size up my tip and attitude deciding if it was going to be
the carotid or the face that got attacked first.




Several
days passed and no signs of him returning, but alas, I thought, another
squirrel was in there that I would have to find a new home for (this is
getting old) No, not a squirrel, I awakened to something strange in
the cage. Sitting there staring at me in my office was a huge black
bird, trapped by my peanut butter treat. That relocation was the
easiest; I opened the cage, the bird flew away and all I lost in the
deal was some bread. Come to find out, it didn't like the peanut butter
after all.




SO,
the current backyard count is 4 squirrels, 1 raccoon and 1 bird all
happily living elsewhere. My next door neighbor, amused at my early
morning Daniel Boone forays, said something yesterday that terrified me,
"What are you going to do if you catch a skunk?"




Do skunks like peanut butter? Back to google, I'll let you know.
Oh and by the way, after further research I have found out that I
wasn't breaking any laws, Colorado is one state where you can, by law,
relocate a racoon, but not a fox? And that thing about driving
barefoot. I don't know if that is urban legend or if you really have to
have shoes on to drive a car.




Did
I mention that a few years back a black bear disassembled my backyard
grill partially? Then she left her footprints in my next door
neighbor's kid's sandbox. How did I know she was a she? She was on the
news. She had fallen asleep in a tree a few miles away. Perhaps the
heavy grease from the drippings in my grill made her tired. I just hope
her babies don't like peanut butter.