Did You Ever See Caddyshack?
Although this entry may appear to be entirely unrelated to the world of voice over, acting, or live event hosting; it may at least explain why it has taken me so long to post a message dealing with aforementioned.This past summer my honey and I had our backyard landscaped from fence to flagstone. We’re thrilled with the results. It turned out better than we could have wished for. We feel fortunate to be able to afford our own piece of paradise complete with a water feature (aka ‘Baby Niagara’).
Even though we live in the midst of a major North American city it truly is a peaceful serving of solitude. With one exception: raccoons!
There’s a family of the brazen scavengers living in a decrepit garage on the adjacent property. They don’t seem to be as fond of our new sod as we are. Or rather, they’re more interested in the grubs beneath the new sod to really care about the new sod.
Raccoons are a part of the urban wildlife where we live. I’m fine with that. But have they no decency or respect? Not only do these overstuffed Davy Crockett hats come calling in the wee hours to have their way with our lawn, they also like to leave their charming little calling card right on the mat under the back door!
I had heard that these deceptively cute gerbils on steroids are as ingenious and industrious as the professor on Gilligan’s Island. What I failed to acknowledge in the early days was how persistent they were.
After a few consecutive mornings of rolling back the brand new sod in the brand new backyard I started asking friends and neighbours for tips and advice on raccoon prevention. Let’s simply refer to this as an exercise in futility.
The first line of defense was a product called ‘Critter Ridder’. Cute name. Useless substance. I should have realized that strategy was hopeless when my cat sprawled out in the middle of the yard shortly after administering the faux deterrent. I might as well have been sprinkling cash on the lawn!
Fat cat enjoying Critter Ridder by ‘Baby Niagara’
Following the inevitable next-day discovery, I then heard that moth balls had been known to do the trick. Well, yes, they’re effective alright. In making any area reek to high heaven! The raccoons were merely bemused. I tried ammonia-soaked rags lining the perimeter of the yard. This was another sure fire old wive’s tale!
I knew the raccoons were diggin’ for grubs so I invested in a couple of bottles of “Grub-Out”. Apparently I sprayed it too late in the season. I emptied a half-dozen bottles of Louisiana Hot Sauce on the grass. I thought that had done the trick until I realized the bandit-masked rodents had simply taken the night off from our lawn to go feast where the grubs weren’t as spicy!
I was running out of ideas. I was also losing my patience. The new grass would never have a chance at taking root if Rocky and the kids kept redecorating our yard every 24 hours.
In the middle of the night I would come outside and sit in the patio chair with a flashlight in one hand and the garden hose in the other. Silly, pathetic man.
I’d spot the vermin and spray them with an almost crazed eagerness and wait for the next opportunity to exert my position in the food chain. I did this one night from 2a.m. to 4a.m. My neighbour told me he heard them go to town on my lawn a few minutes after I went back inside! Spiteful bunch.
At this point my wife was starting to grow concerned about my psychological well being.
I decided to avoid further sleepless nights and drop a hundred bucks on one of those new-fangled motion sensor water sprinklers designed to help out in such a dire situation. I made my purchase and set up the apparatus. This unit had a good spraying radius and did unleash its surprise H2O fury when something appeared within 35 feet. It seems the nightly visitors were hip to the latest plan. They boldly acted like kids running through an open hydrant on a hot summer’s day in the Bronx. I returned the sprinkler.
I started entertaining the notion of live trapping. Expensive and no guarantees. I began hallucinating about slingshots, crossbows and high powered rifles with scopes. I was clearly losing my mind. I envisioned raccoons rubbing their little hands together in that diabolical “resistance is futile” sort of fashion.
I investigated online what measures to take for such a seemingly hopeless dilemma. The city website warned me I was on my own. I was informed I could virtually be arrested for looking at a raccoon the wrong way, let alone send it to early retirement!
I was starting to think outside the box…or at least outside my yard. The rather simple, cost effective and innocent method: borrowing a neighbour’s dog for a few nights to keep the ‘coons away. The somewhat impractical and harsh method: a napalm air drop. I felt a thin, little electric wire around the fence with something subtle like 10,000 volts pulsating through might send a clear message. Again, a tad severe.
Over this period I did a lot of soul searching. I became one with nature and learned several things:
• I found out that multiple boxes of crushed moth balls spread over a relatively small area can cause headaches for an extended period of time.
• I discovered that raccoons demand respect and are truly oblivious to the fact that they can get inside your head like Sinatra in The Manchurian Candidate.
• Astro-turf may be an option come springtime.
• I also discovered that paradise is relative.
Score: Raccoons - Yard supremacy
O’Shea - wisdom!
I’m going to rent Caddyshack to see if Bill Murray ever was successful in his mission with the gophers.