an interesting and somewhat entertaining evening, yesterday...
Yesterday at work was yet another typical day in hell, so I left here with a monster headache, made worse by the fact that I had to work an extra 45 minutes and make my husband wait, too, since he dropped me off in the morning and planned to pick me up at 5:00.
... blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda...
Halfway home, he spots this big ol' semi with an "OVERSIZED LOAD" banner on the back, carrying...
Wait for it...
The Stargate. Yep. That's right. The Stargate. (His conclusion, no prompting from me.) It was this HUUUUGE ring, the perfect size for a 'gate, chained to the truck bed on this metal scaffold-type thing at an angle, because it was way too big to be flat. *snerk* I was giggling like a mad fool by the time we hit our exit, what with his plans to follow them and take pictures and then have to hide from the authorities 'cause we knew too much. :P
Fast forward to after dinner. It's a little after 9:00 and we're watching the Unit when we hear this weird sound from just outside the back door. Kind of a cross between a cat in heat and, well, I dunno. Instantly, both cats are right there at the door, backs arched and tails all puffed out, growling. And then Tasha gets into the spirit of things and dives off the couch, growling and whining. And then we hear it again...
The hideous and terrifying cry of...
Wait for it...
Two baby raccoons. *snerk* Little Timmy and his much braver brother Jack (Bauer, don't cha know) had managed to get their little scruffy-furry butts under our deck and then were confounded by the fence on the other side of the ginormous lilac bushes when they tried to get out to mama.
So the cats are going insane, the dog is going insane, I'm trying to find a flashlight that works properly (as in, you know, giving LIGHT), and Don's trying to at least get the dog coralled into the garage so we can go out back and get Little Timmy and Jack out of our backyard and into the woods where the more or less belonged.
We finally managed to get out onto the deck, armed with a spray bottle of diluted vinegar (hoping the strong smell would make them leave), a working flashlight, a long-handled plastic garden rake, a tall kitchen garbage can, and a cover for said can (not the one it came with). By this time, LT and Jack have come up on the deck and are OMGSOFUCKINGCUTE very politely asking us if they can come in and have some dinner. The vinegar didn't work -- apparently, baby raccoons love the stuff. Who knew? ;) They're sitting in puddles of lapping up the vinegar and making this ADORABLE little purring sound, looking at each other every few seconds to make sure they haven't strayed too far from the other (Little Timmy really didn't want to be so far away from Jack that he was no longer trampling all over touching him).
Impasse. Baby raccoons looking adorable, husband telling me no, we can't keep them, me repeating OMGSOCUTE every few seconds. :P (Yes, I know, they're RACOONS and will grow up to eat my entire vegetable garden without even saying thank you, but... OMGSOCUTE!)
After nearly a half hour of pushing with the rake and cajoling with a handful of dogfood, we got Jack into the garbage can, but Little Timmy just wouldn't go. Don ended up carrying Jack into the woods, leaving me there to defend the deck against LT. Which is pretty much when the flashlight failed. *headdesk* So I'm in the dark, trying to keep tabs on LT, who is by this time crying piteously for his brother and driving the dog again insane.
About 10 minutes pass and Don is back, having shoved Jack out of the can with a handful of dog food (Gravy Train, for those keeping track) into the woods maybe a quarter of a mile from our backyard.
Jack was brave and bold and stood his ground when the scary but OMGTHEYHAVEYUMMYVINEGARANDKIBBLE humans wanted to trap him in the garbage can. Little Timmy, though, he wanted nothing to do with us. Our vinegar and dogfood, yes. Us, not so much.
Another half hour or so of the same and we finally got LT into the can with some more dogfood and I went with Don to the release point. Lo and behold, as soon as we got to the little clear spot near the creek, Jack starts making a fuss. And then LT starts yelling for Jack, but instead of leaving the can, which is now lying on the ground on its side, he decides he kinda likes it there. He won't come out. He's yelling for Jack to come in there with him and have some kibble. We finally just up-ended the darn can and when LT still wouldn't move away from us (OMGSOCUTE), Don gave him a shove with the rake and he ran off to his brother.
By this time it's pushing 11:00 and not five minutes after we got back inside and got poor Tasha calmed down (OMG! YOU DID STUFF WITHOUT ME! OMG! RACOON! OMG! YOU GAVE MY FOOD TO THE RACOOONS!), we hear mama out in the woods, yelling for her errant children to come home right frakking now. *headdesk*
... blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda...
Halfway home, he spots this big ol' semi with an "OVERSIZED LOAD" banner on the back, carrying...
Wait for it...
The Stargate. Yep. That's right. The Stargate. (His conclusion, no prompting from me.) It was this HUUUUGE ring, the perfect size for a 'gate, chained to the truck bed on this metal scaffold-type thing at an angle, because it was way too big to be flat. *snerk* I was giggling like a mad fool by the time we hit our exit, what with his plans to follow them and take pictures and then have to hide from the authorities 'cause we knew too much. :P
Fast forward to after dinner. It's a little after 9:00 and we're watching the Unit when we hear this weird sound from just outside the back door. Kind of a cross between a cat in heat and, well, I dunno. Instantly, both cats are right there at the door, backs arched and tails all puffed out, growling. And then Tasha gets into the spirit of things and dives off the couch, growling and whining. And then we hear it again...
The hideous and terrifying cry of...
Wait for it...
Two baby raccoons. *snerk* Little Timmy and his much braver brother Jack (Bauer, don't cha know) had managed to get their little scruffy-furry butts under our deck and then were confounded by the fence on the other side of the ginormous lilac bushes when they tried to get out to mama.
So the cats are going insane, the dog is going insane, I'm trying to find a flashlight that works properly (as in, you know, giving LIGHT), and Don's trying to at least get the dog coralled into the garage so we can go out back and get Little Timmy and Jack out of our backyard and into the woods where the more or less belonged.
We finally managed to get out onto the deck, armed with a spray bottle of diluted vinegar (hoping the strong smell would make them leave), a working flashlight, a long-handled plastic garden rake, a tall kitchen garbage can, and a cover for said can (not the one it came with). By this time, LT and Jack have come up on the deck and are OMGSOFUCKINGCUTE very politely asking us if they can come in and have some dinner. The vinegar didn't work -- apparently, baby raccoons love the stuff. Who knew? ;) They're sitting in puddles of lapping up the vinegar and making this ADORABLE little purring sound, looking at each other every few seconds to make sure they haven't strayed too far from the other (Little Timmy really didn't want to be so far away from Jack that he was no longer trampling all over touching him).
Impasse. Baby raccoons looking adorable, husband telling me no, we can't keep them, me repeating OMGSOCUTE every few seconds. :P (Yes, I know, they're RACOONS and will grow up to eat my entire vegetable garden without even saying thank you, but... OMGSOCUTE!)
After nearly a half hour of pushing with the rake and cajoling with a handful of dogfood, we got Jack into the garbage can, but Little Timmy just wouldn't go. Don ended up carrying Jack into the woods, leaving me there to defend the deck against LT. Which is pretty much when the flashlight failed. *headdesk* So I'm in the dark, trying to keep tabs on LT, who is by this time crying piteously for his brother and driving the dog again insane.
About 10 minutes pass and Don is back, having shoved Jack out of the can with a handful of dog food (Gravy Train, for those keeping track) into the woods maybe a quarter of a mile from our backyard.
Jack was brave and bold and stood his ground when the scary but OMGTHEYHAVEYUMMYVINEGARANDKIBBLE humans wanted to trap him in the garbage can. Little Timmy, though, he wanted nothing to do with us. Our vinegar and dogfood, yes. Us, not so much.
Another half hour or so of the same and we finally got LT into the can with some more dogfood and I went with Don to the release point. Lo and behold, as soon as we got to the little clear spot near the creek, Jack starts making a fuss. And then LT starts yelling for Jack, but instead of leaving the can, which is now lying on the ground on its side, he decides he kinda likes it there. He won't come out. He's yelling for Jack to come in there with him and have some kibble. We finally just up-ended the darn can and when LT still wouldn't move away from us (OMGSOCUTE), Don gave him a shove with the rake and he ran off to his brother.
By this time it's pushing 11:00 and not five minutes after we got back inside and got poor Tasha calmed down (OMG! YOU DID STUFF WITHOUT ME! OMG! RACOON! OMG! YOU GAVE MY FOOD TO THE RACOOONS!), we hear mama out in the woods, yelling for her errant children to come home right frakking now. *headdesk*