Well after I sent a nutty complaint to our town using some whacky form, I got a call today. "I heard you had a raccoon that was attacking you, Mr. Wells?" After about a week I had forgotten all about that, how a mama raccoon and her baby had gotten all defensive when Lori was feeding the outside cats before dawn one day.
So staff was understanding and had heard of some raccoon on the island, and loaned me one of the larger sized Have-A-Heart traps. Whatever they're called, they're humane, just a cage and a trap door. And some kitty food.
First off all I caught every single dumb cat in the neighborhood, including my domestic part Siamese that should have known better. So I guess the trick is to run traps well after ten o'clock at night. I let all the cats go, since none were feral or bobcats.
Bingo, after reloading with another rasher of kitty food for bait, I bag a small possum. Not heavy enough to trip the trigger on the large animal trap so I dropped an old beach sandal on the trap from the upstairs porch, which made a nice "ka-chunk" sound as the gate snapped closed.
In case you are wondering, any trapped wild animals are unloaded about 5 to 7 miles to the north end of the beach, where they are released - the town insists on doing this. Domesticated animals go to the pound on the mainland to the south for an examination and such. My possum is taking the northern route, I expect.
Meanwhile I heard the raccoon because it was sniffing around when I dropped the shoe - it made a big ruckus running into the pepperwood tree where I think it lives. I know it is there but I have to fight through all these dang cats and possum first. All in a day's work, my friends.