Now the first night, they hit the jackpot and feasted on pretzels left over from the concession stand that I was doling out to the dog as treats....the next night, they helped themselves to a tupperware container of beef stew, (damn them, I was looking forward to that stew) and the third night managed to damage several cans of my precious Pepsi (I only allow myself one can a day and they destroyed FOUR cans! The nerve!! That was it!! Realizing that these bandits were not going to stop raiding the fridge for a free meal, I moved my live trap (yes the same one that has not been tripped yet in my search of the chicken killing weasel) to the back yard and baited it with marshmallows. Bingo! The next morning I had myself a teenaged raccoon. I drove him down the road a couple of miles and released him. The next morning Bam! I had another one!! I was on a roll & and began wondering "how many babies do coons have anyway?" In other words the novelty had worn off and I really didn't want to spend the rest of the summer driving coons off to better pastures!
The third night I was out of marshmallows and used vanilla wafer cookies instead and the next morning I was rewarded with yet another teenaged raccoon. This one however was feisty and shredded the blanket that I threw over the cage in an attempt to calm the little beasty down....needless to say he didn’t quite make it the full two miles to his release destination as he was having a cow in the back of the car....(that is such a funny expression seeing as cow babies are MUCH bigger than racoons are, lol) so he only traveled about 1 mile away. Hoping that was far enough I opened the trap and Zoom! off he went (hopefully never to be seen again!).
The last night I set the trap, again using vanilla wafer cookies and crossed my fingers, hoping that momma herself would be in the trap and my family of night-time bandits would be gone and therefore my Pepsi stash safe. The next morning, nothing in the cage.....the second morning, nothing in the cage.....the third morning it was pouring down rain. Now, please understand, this was not a nice warm summer rain but a freezing, drenching downpour the likes that Noah no doubt encountered while traveling around on his ark! I look out hoping that the trap is again empty but I was wrong! I had caught a varmint afterall, one that apparently loves vanilla wafers and is curious enough to get itself in trouble. It also was sitting in a low spot of the yard and the water was slowly getting deeper and the soaking creature was standing as tall as it could to keep its body out of the rising tide. But instead of rejoicing in my capture I was mortified to see that I had caught my very own lead hen!!
Now for those of you who don’t know much about chickens, there is a reason for the saying "mad as a wet hen" they DO NOT like water at all and she was pissed off! She was squacking and carrying on (jeesh... like I was trying to catch a chicken)! Chickens also have a physical weakness when it comes to water – they absolutely cannot get water in their ears – it means almost certain death (think of swimmers ear on steroids!). So, after much arguing, and then some cajoling and yes, even a little begging, I get her out of the cage and wrap her up in a bath towel, like a chicken taco and then dried her head as good as possible (she didn’t think much of that procedure either). I then used my umbrella to keep her dry and took her to the barn and placed her in the coop with the heat lamp on to warm up and dry out. She immediately collapsed and flattened herself out with wings widespread to soak up the heat (she is a bit of a drama queen...) You know not even a cluck of a thanks for "saving my life" from her – silly ungrateful bird! Needless to say, I did not reset the trap....I had enough adventure for a few days!
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