First, there was a concentrated hissing/spitting/bouncing off walls and windows from the cat perch which looks out over the upper deck. Knew immediately what it was, of course, so got up and went into the living room and switched on the outside light and yup, there they were, the three kit racoonlets, one on each feeder and one perched on top of the food bin (last time they knocked that over - this time I attached it to the railing, which probably made them angry...)
Did the light bother them? Not a bit. They looked up, blinked at me out of those foxy little faces, and carried right on shoveling birdseed into their snouts.
I opened the door a crack and yelled YAAAAAAH!
Did that bother them? Not a bit. They merely looked up and went, "Huh? Something we can do for you?"
I took a stick and waved it at them.
Did that bother them? Not a bit. They looekd at me like I was losing it. "WHy are you waving that thing at us? Is it supposed to mean something?"
So I went and woke up hubby (who as usual had slept through the entire original hullaballoo. So he wakes up and trundles out to see what is going on.
Now there are two raccoonlets. #3 seems to have decided that he'd had enough. But the two that are there are BOTH now stuffed into the covered birdfeeder, and their fat little butts don't fit. So they are batting at each other.
Hubby opens the door and yells YAAAAAAAAH!!! GO AWAY!
Did that bother them? Not a bit. They turned their pointy little bandit snouts his way and went, "What IS it with you people? Why are you screaming and hollering into the night?"
So hubby stepped outside. With the stick. HE HIT THE RACCOON ON THE HEAD WITH THE STICK.
Did that bother it? Not a bit. It shook its head and glared at him and went, "Dude! WTF are you doing?!"
So hubby retreated, and got a large jug of water, and stepped back out again, and yelled YAAAAAAH! and tossed the contents of the jug at the miscreants.
He missed completely. But one of them finally had enough and skedaddled; the other appeared to have another think about it before he too waddled away.
It was 31F outside last night. We now had a wide-awake cat who wanted battle, two grown human beings who were rendered helpless and ridiculous against a passel of raccoon kits, and soemthing that would turn into a skating rink outside on the deck by morning.
By this stage it was oh-my-god o'clock, but when I finally retreated back to bed it was to a roused and riled cat who came bounding onto the bed meowing loudly in an apparent demand for me to recognise HER role in the entire affair (which was, to be rather uncharitable about it, initially waking me up by bouncing hard off of the window and then hissing and spitting at the baby coon who was perched on the feeder just outside that window, about six inches away from the outraged cat, ignorning her completely...)
The joys of living in the woods. Oh my.