Company, then.
Well, it seems we have some uninvited boarders.
While we sped off to work the other day, Cynra noticed a four legged visitor scurrying out from under the front steps. YHB, busy watching for two legged pedestrians, missed it. "Keep an eye open for it", she implored the next day. And I did, and, sure enough, there was a raccoon.
Cynra also felt the animal looked hurt, so she had me call the Oakville Humane Society to inquire. A couple hours later, a young lady in a large marked white van drove up to the house. Memory tells me she wore a stetson, although logic says such a thing is ludicrous; I believe it just makes sense that she would. We told her about our houseguest, and she stepped back off the steps ("She took a swipe at me when I came up", she said) and half knelt down to look under the step.
She was sagelike in her perception and observation. Listen, she said. I held my breath and listened, straining to hear a series of low chirps over the dry whistling of my breath (I've had a cold recently). You've got kits under there.
The mother, the animal officer noted, seemed very healthy (when she took a swipe at me seemed to be an unspoken subtext, but I SAID she was under the stairs). So we'll be letting nature take its course.
So, this is how it works. The mother will nurse her young until late in the summer, at which point they'll depart. So, until then, we have company. After then, we seal up the steps, so this little misunderstanding isn't repeated.
Consider this a reminder, then, to use the side door when you come to visit.
While we sped off to work the other day, Cynra noticed a four legged visitor scurrying out from under the front steps. YHB, busy watching for two legged pedestrians, missed it. "Keep an eye open for it", she implored the next day. And I did, and, sure enough, there was a raccoon.
Cynra also felt the animal looked hurt, so she had me call the Oakville Humane Society to inquire. A couple hours later, a young lady in a large marked white van drove up to the house. Memory tells me she wore a stetson, although logic says such a thing is ludicrous; I believe it just makes sense that she would. We told her about our houseguest, and she stepped back off the steps ("She took a swipe at me when I came up", she said) and half knelt down to look under the step.
She was sagelike in her perception and observation. Listen, she said. I held my breath and listened, straining to hear a series of low chirps over the dry whistling of my breath (I've had a cold recently). You've got kits under there.
The mother, the animal officer noted, seemed very healthy (when she took a swipe at me seemed to be an unspoken subtext, but I SAID she was under the stairs). So we'll be letting nature take its course.
So, this is how it works. The mother will nurse her young until late in the summer, at which point they'll depart. So, until then, we have company. After then, we seal up the steps, so this little misunderstanding isn't repeated.
Consider this a reminder, then, to use the side door when you come to visit.