(Nope, this one is welcome. Just not ON my computer.)
OH MY GOSH.
This morning the cat let me sleep in until 5am. I was so happy. I got up and did the usual routine, feed her, open the cat door, go to the bathroom, go back upstairs to bed. About five minutes later we heard a commotion downstairs. I said, “Doug can you please go down and see what that was?”
No, argument, he got right up since I had just been up. I just thought she knocked something over. I heard it again as Doug went down, so I thought maybe her most unfavorite cat-brother made his way in the cat door and there was a kerfuffle.
Then I heard Doug making stomping running noises. So I got up and yelled down the stairs, “What is it?”
“RACCOONS!!!” He stomped some more.
I yelled, “Don’t try to chase them out. You’re supposed to lock yourself in a room with your pets until they find their way out. They are MEAN!”
So he grabbed the cat, who was perched up on the back of the couch just a few feet away from the raccoon. The one raccoon that was in the house was in the corner behind the conga drums—just a couple feet from the cat door. Doug carried Fia upstairs and we barricaded ourselves in the bedroom. Doug said that there was a whole family of raccoons outside of the cat door, but the rest ran off when they saw and heard Doug charging.
Over the next 15 or 20 minutes we never heard the raccoon rummaging through the kitchen, which is what I’ve heard they do. So Fia and I stayed in the bedroom while Doug slowly ventured down. He saw that