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The Captor Family.

When we arrived, and exchanged chitchat, it turned out John's wife wasn't at all frightened, and the little girl was enchanted, kneeling out in the yard, cooing to the frightened little furball in the cage-trap. Well, yes, John conceded, it sure was cute, and his wife was not the reason for the deportation. He had recently purchased the house, and simply felt that since the deed said nothing about RACCOONS, and he had had to put a fair amount of insulation back into the basement walls, he was going to claim this as his sole and exclusive homestead, and the critters had to go. There's no arguing with business logic. The fact that Momma had settled in an out of the way corner under his deck was no excuse. We went out back in the yard near the deck to see "the catch".

Feisty little guy, twirling and hissing, looking for a way out. Looked like a 10 week old, a bit over the hill as far as total bonding with humans is concerned, but you don't look a gift coon in the mouth, not without gloves anyway. So, Rose Pickers on, Pet Taxi to the rescue, a little push on the trap door, and he is ours. We'll worry about details later, he hasn't eaten for a while, let's get him home.

Speedy Raccoon Removal Service!

The meter is running on the Pet Taxi, we bid the captors farewell, and off we go, our precious furry cargo in the back seat.

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