Raccoons .. Don't Mess With 'em

When we first moved to this house 14 years ago, we were already familiar with the neighborhood, having spent the 18 years 2 houses away. But that was across a side road and up on a hilltop. We'd had some coon problems up there, mostly one big boar that I thought was a baby black bear.

But about the 2nd week in the house my security light on the back deck went on. I got up to see what the problem was. There, on my deck was a large coon taking apart the garbage bags. I don't really like putting the garbage in the first time. I really hate picking it up a second time. So I did the obvious, I opened the door to shoo him away. He charged. I chickened and stepped back, closing the door. He actually hit the door. It wasn't a bluff charge, it was the real thing.

Thinking it was a fluke, I tried that again, but was ready and wasn't disappointed. He charged again, showed his fangs, and then returned to messing up my deck. I'm kind of an easy going guy....I agreed with Mr Robber and went to my gun room. The first .22 I found was a M43, good enough for the job. I loaded it and went back to the door. He was still engaged in his task, and when I opened the door he just charged again. Mistake. He took it in the shoulder area. But he stopped looked at me, and waddled off. I went to bed. I figured I'd find him the next morning, but all I found was the hole in my deck board (still there) where it passed thru him.

I didn't care about a clean kill. I wanted him to cease and desist. He did. I never saw him again. Thinking back, I don't care if he died a lingering and painful death. All I wanted was him gone.

For a while the kit gun was my weapon of choice, but for whatever reason I sold it. Then I moved to a more interesting 'coon gun. I bought, for whatever reason, a 547. Loaded with 9mm shot loads, it served duty for about the next 8 or 9 years. You get a much longer range for a quick shot with a handgun. Better still, the critters head down the steps in a direction that gives me a clear shot with a backstop.

Beware the loads, however. My deck has a covered area, with a gutter and downspout. The down spout comes down along a pillar next to the step. My oldest son took a good look, then asked me if woodpeckers had started in on my downspout. Yep, nice little #12 shot sized holes! :)
 
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Hmmm...

My experience with raccoons is limited mostly to seeing roadkills on my way to work. However, over the years I have seen a few going about their business. Many years ago, I was visiting a friend in the suburbs south of Seattle, and we went outside to investigate some noises. It was at night, so we had a flashlight with us. Up in one of his trees was 2 or 3 of the biggest raccoons I have ever seen. Huge! I had no idea they could get so big. We took a good look, and then went back in the house. Shooting wouldn't have been safe there, so we just left them alone.
Still remember that sight, all these years later. They looked like small black bears LOL.

-Jim
 
My father in law had 'coons trashing his garden almost nightly. He got a live trap from a buddy and baited it with a peanut butter sandwich, the next morning inside the trap was one very PO'd raccoon! After breakfast it went for a swim in the river. The next few mornings were a repeat of the first, catch 'coon, take it to the river. This goes on for several days until one morning Joe brought the .410 'cause he didn't want to the river in the pouring rain. He stuck the muzzle of the .410 into the trap and squeezed the trigger just as the 'coon bit down on the end. I expected it to go down but it shook it's head and continued to attack the business end of the .410 until a second shot finally dropped him.

I saw another 'coon (IIRC with distemper) take 3 9mm slugs before it dropped.

Those darn 'coons are tough...
 
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A full grown raccoon has been known to whip up on some pretty tough 'coon hounds and is nothing I would even think about tangling with bare handed. Let alone trying to "shoo" away five of them. There are darned few, if any, wild animals that a man can tangle with bare handed, regardless of size, and not come out the worse for wear.

I used to run the one off at the farm with an axe. Figured I only had to hit him once before he got to me, but he never offered to put up a fight.

Now I'd just pop him with my .45, and he seems to stay away completely now. :D
 
We have one that shows up to eat the cat food on the deck. None of the 6 cats will mess with it, nor will my golden retriever.
 
I got into my deer blind one afternoon not knowing a mother coon had taken over the place with her young. She was on me like white on rice. I was scrarched, bitten, darn near killed before I could escape. Now, they are shot on sight.
 
I think that once I owned the dumbest dog in the world. Daisy was a yellow, short haired, nasty-looking, mean, old stray mutt that the kids brought home from a pizza shop one day; you know the kind. She was never house broken, never really liked me, but she loved the kids and she always had to have the last bark. Anyways, she stayed outside in her dog house. Consequently she was frequently engaged in ...ahh, canine discussions and interactions with the indigenous woodland creatures. Many a night's sleep was interrupted by her barking and howling; and under the anonymity accorded by this-here internet, I will admit that I often had thoughts of introducing her to the business end of Mr.Remington 870. But such was not her fate.

One night she was typically engaged in barking and growling; generally acting in a socially unacceptable fashion. Suddenly she began howling in a manner that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was like something out of the Hound of the Baskervilles. I knew that she was in trouble. So I goes outside and turn on the back porch lights and there she is with a giant raccoon wrapped around her face. They're locked in mortal combat and I'm not sure who's going to come out of it alive. A tiny thought crossed my mind that this might not be such a bad thing, but it was short lived.

Well, the kids see what's happening and they're starting to go nuts, so I decide that I had better spring into action and try to rescue the dumbest dog in the world...again (this wouldn't be the first time, but I digress).

The first weapon that I came to was a wooden baseball bat. So armed, I strode mightily into the night to do battle with the ferocious woodland beast and save the day (once again) for our "beloved" female canine friend. I got in a pretty good whack at it; squarely onto the beast's cranium (...uh, the raccoon, that is). I heard it's skull crack. Well, I guess that was enough for Mr.Coon. He dropped from Daisy's face, stood there eye-ing me up and down for a bit, shook his head a couple of times and then waddled off into the night.

Daisy had to be attended; she was a little bitten-up, but needed no stitches. To the kids; I was a hero (...for a short while). But that dog somehow must have sensed my tiny moment of indecision and she still never liked me. But we never saw that raccoon again. And I'm glad that he decided to waddle off into the night rather than chance another encounter with me and my Louisville slugger. In hindsight, I should have opted for the 870. -S2
 
I used to give the racoons a little slack when I first moved out into the woods from the city. Eventually It got to where they were showing up in the daytime. This usually indicates rabies or other advanced illness. And then when the sun went down I found mysef looking at dozens of them. I shoot them on a regular basis now and am glad to see them gone.
 
I just wish I could talk all of my neighbors into going to your house for some coffee, Danish and sage advice! These morons are still thinking "Rocky Raccoon"? I just hope it's one of their pets that gets eviscerated first. Your right, none of my neighbors light 'em up @ 02:00 like I do coming home and see just how many pair of eyes are looking back!
 
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Sorry. I couldn't resist. I have found that the 148 grain .38 Special wadcutter round is very effective and doesn't over-penetrate from my Model 52-2.
 
Had a couple of slightly intoxicated friends run over one one dark night. They stopped and picked him up, figured he'd make a cool hat or something. Went down the road after putting him in the trunk and got about five miles when the coon suddenly rose from the dead. You ain't seen nothing til you've seen two drunk guys standing on either side of a car with all the doors open out in the dark of night, and a pissed off coon chewing through a seat back to get out of the car. I'll bet that was the last time they picked up something that they thought was dead!


This very much reminds me of "Go get your shine box"
 
I used a 547 for a while, with shot loads. But be aware CB and BB caps are very quiet. For a long time I was stuck on the idea of clean, humane kills. Now I just want them to leave me alone. If they die an agonizing death, its pay back for all my garbage I've had to pick up over and over.

As far as picking up dead ones... :) one of the rottenest pranks we ever pulled was on a buddy. He lived in a polish penthouse (basement apartment.) He'd done some awful thing to us. It involved limburger cheese and our mufflers. He though it was a great one. So, back in the day, we picked up a 12 pack, the buddies old ratty pickup truck, and a shovel. We went for an evenings ride. Our victim worked night shift at a local hospital.

We drove for a while, had a few beers, and covered the local county back roads. Before long we began seeing road kill. There was all kind of fauna, all not moving. So we stopped at each and shoveled. We stopped when we ran out of beer, and headed over to the buddy's.

His windows were all in "wells", but there were fair sized openings in the covers. So into the wells went dead 'coons, 'possums, bunnies, squirrels, anything who's time had come, we delivered. He never mentioned it to us, either. About a week later all the critters had somehow been removed from the window wells. And the distinct odor of Clorox prevailed. :)
 
I used to use a 22lr until i shot one old Sow 15 times to kill her. She was 48 lbs. I moved up to 22 hornet, it works well and the last summer I lived back east I shot 14 off the back deck.
 
We got a doberman-sheppard mutt from the Humane Society years back. Nicest dog, loved everyone, especially babies - who knows why but he scared the crap out of the mothers of those babies, him hovering around them and all.

He was best buds with my daughter's rabbit and the best friend you could have.

At 75 pounds, he wasn't a giant, just big enough.

That old boy LOVED to hunt!

I saw him with a medium sized raccoon in his mouth shaking the hell out of it one night. Another time I watched him go after a huge raccoon and that thing couldn't get away fast enough. I damn near saw it try to fly.

We didn't want to have to deal with injury or disease, so we eventually started locking the dog door and kept him in at night.

He used to sit outside in the dark, waiting...

I miss him.

felix.jpg
 
We got a doberman-sheppard mutt from the Humane Society years back. Nicest dog, loved everyone, especially babies - who knows why but he scared the crap out of the mothers of those babies, him hovering around them and all.

He was best buds with my daughter's rabbit and the best friend you could have.

At 75 pounds, he wasn't a giant, just big enough.

That old boy LOVED to hunt!

I saw him with a medium sized raccoon in his mouth shaking the hell out of it one night. Another time I watched him go after a huge raccoon and that thing couldn't get away fast enough. I damn near saw it try to fly.

We didn't want to have to deal with injury or disease, so we eventually started locking the dog door and kept him in at night.

He used to sit outside in the dark, waiting...

I miss him.

felix.jpg




LOVE the tail!!!



!
 
There I was... with no ammo.

Recently returned from combat skill training at Ft Lewis, WA. Early one morning, the Chief and I were off to breakfast at the dining facility. It was well before dawn, and the resident wildlife (and there's a bunch of it) was out in force for their late-night dinner. As we were walking between two of the WW-II era barracks, we saw one, then two, then five plump raccoons underneath one building, and another crossing our path. As the lone 'coon approached the others, we heard some gawdawful hissing, and a 'coon clash in the making.

So there were were. Between us, we had an M-16, an M4, two M-9s... and no ammo. (The powers-that-be have no problem with you lugging the weapons around "for training," but ammo? Sacre blu! Somebody could get hurt that way!) As I was reaching for the Spyderco, the solo 'coon decided it wasn't worth it, and moved along.

Moral #1: Let the 'coons have dinner before you have breakfast.
#2: Butt-stroking a cranky 'coon is probably *not* found in the Army manual.
#3: Bayonet!
 
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