THE BAD CHILDREN

Having moved from pillar to post my patience has been running very thin. It is difficult to turn your entire life (almost) over to strangers; to know that what you do next is dependent on what OTHER people do next or not at all or eventually. It is the eventually part that gets me. WHEN are they going to do it?
So it was with some reservations that I turned the problem of raccoons in the a/c ducts over to Eddie, the fix it man. (At least now, living in the rental, he is our do-everything guy.)
Eddie is a big guy. Big forearms. A workman. He is always pleasant, laughs long and loud, loves animals, enjoys his work apparently. Never complains. His complaints, such as they are, are so low-key they sound like my compliments. "Oh you little rascals" he muttered last night, as the baby raccoons cringed just out of reach (by about 10 feet).

So at 11:30 last night, here was Eddie and his reluctant (and terrified helper, Brandon,) crawling through the ductwork on his belly, hoping Mom Raccoon wasn't at the end of the poorly little passageway but not really knowing. Brandon stayed outside (of the house) to guard against the Mama returning while Eddie was facedown in the tunnel trying to reach her children.

Eventually the decision was made to cut holes in the "family room" (dining room) ceiling,pull the two babies out and put them in a box right by the (now blocked) entrance to the house the Mother had been using. It was raining a  little. Brandon was terrified the Mother would return and rip out his spleen and eat it.

Three holes in the ceiling later (they moved toward the soffit) Eddie reached in and pulled one out by the tail, set it on the ladder and then deposited it in the box I held. I draped a towel over it. I could not believe it wasn't trying to get out, but it huddled in the towel. Then came the second, and then Eddie.

And you can see by his expression, what he thinks of his naughty children.

The white thing is a glove just in case: the rest is plaster dust. By now, it is midnight.

Ok I confess, the little rats are cute, ok? I don't want anything terrible to happen to them, but I don't want them living in my place of residence either, rental or otherwise.

John heard the Mother up there on the roof last night. I can climb a ladder but not dismount onto the roof. I left it there in hopes that John would feel compelled to look and see if the tenants had been moved, but he doesn't. I guess we will wait till Eddie arrives, which will probably be quite late.

So good luck little guys.

Thanks for leaving. (We hope).