FYI - Raccoons cannot fly either.
I went on a grocery run after work tonight (off at midnight) and as I am making my way up the stairs the cat motors past me at a hundred miles an hour like he always does. Only this time he gets to the top of the stairs and stops dead. Actually not just stopped dead, it looked like he hit an invisible brick wall.
He just spazzed! Holy shit!
Then I see what has flipped him out. A big fat raccoon. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Now I am standing at the bottom of the stairs, groceries in hand, pissed. Square in the center of the only escape route for the raccoon. In order for me to scare him down the stairs and off my deck I would have to go up those stairs. At which point I would be inches from where he stands.
Ok, this is when I get truly pissed. I do not need this shit. It's also when I realize I am actually voicing my displeasure, loudly. More like a little hissy fit, right there at the bottom of the stairs.
The raccoon finally takes himself away from whatever he is destroying on my deck and comes to the top of the stairs. He looks at me, we lock eyes and both see our dilemma. I can't get up the stairs, cuz I don't want to get that close to him and he can't come down for the very same reasons.
Mr. Raccoon makes his move, he decides to go up on the railing. So I figure he is going to do what he has done in the past, follow the railing to the roof and go up and over to the other side of the house. I totally agree with this decision, since the alternative has me spending the night in the car with melting ice cream without so much as a spoon.
I am totally on board with the plan and start to ascend the stairs, two at a time, barking loudly. Don't laugh, what would you have done? Whistle softly and recite poetry?
Here's where it gets really interesting. (And it all happens in less than three seconds.) I am halfway up the stairs and the raccoon takes a sharp right hand turn instead of left towards the roof. He realizes his mistake too late, as turning right gives him only one unfortunate option, straight down two stories.
He hesitates but I am almost upon him, he goes over the edge. Not sure what I was thinking, cuz if he hadn't gone over the edge, the only other thing he could have done was launch himself through the air, straight at me. But I have rage on my side and all I can think is that this is the asshole who has terrorized me and trashed my step and garbage for the past month. I reach the deck as he goes over the side.
Fuck Yhea! Was it that easy? Of course not. I look over the edge and there he is, hanging from the deck on the other side of the rail, his paw protruding through the rung of the railing. I am committed now. After all, what do you do then, offer him your hand to haul him back up? Fuck no!
Only one thing to do...I stepped on his 'wittle foot'. So long sucka! THUD!