Who knew a raccoon could do that?

Anybody out there having trouble with nuisance animals this spring? Raccoons in particular?

We suffer a Constant Visitor each night and I don’t know if it’s the same critter or one of his cousins, but man, he’s persistent and clever as the dickens, too.

First it was the Compostainer. We do our best to fill it with the detritus left behind by our erstwhile children, who are generally good eaters. However, they’re finicky on occasion and what worked Tuesday won’t fly Friday, you know what I mean?

They’ll turn up the old nose and we’re left with a tough choice: chuck the stuff into the Compostainer or send them to bed hungry.

That tact might’ve worked when I was a kid and I’m not sure what has changed since then, but sending a child to bed with no supper doesn’t appeal to me. So we get creative, come up with an alternative and the myriad night prowlers have a veritable smorgasbord from which to choose once they topple the ‘tainer.

Oh, yeah. Stuff everywhere and who’s left to clean it up? You got it.

So we secured the Compostainer and eliminated one food source. However, raccoons have a knack for adaptability and they don’t take no for an answer.

We have for several years now hung a hummingbird feeder, suet ball and a couple of birdfeeders on the clothesline to attract our feathered friends.

One night my wife and I had just turned off the tube and extinguished the living room light when we heard this god-awful clunking on the deck. Clearly Constant Visitor had been waiting. I stood on standby for a moment or two to catch the villain in the act, but what I saw when I flicked the deck light was simply astounding.

There was this raccoon hanging upside down on the clothesline, going hand-over-hand along the wire like a Navy Seal sneaking onto an enemy vessal.

“Holy cow!” I said to my wife. “Look at this!”

She was jockeying into position with a camera as I stood there, dumbfounded, but outrage at the beast’s boldness overtook good sense and the opportunity for an award-winning photo. I whipped open the deck door and roared, “Get outta here, you…you…!” something or other.

Immediately the raccoon moved like Jackie Chan on a Tim’s triple/triple. It backpedaled on the line using the same hand-over-hand technique, swung onto the deck’s railing, did a bellyroll onto the floor, literally scratched its way down a support beam and was gone.

My wife looked at me for a second, the camera like a battle-ax in her hand, her eyes wide in disbelief. “What’d you do that for?” she asked. “I wanted to get a picture.”

I smiled. Some days you can’t win. I had saved the suet ball and wound up in the doghouse. Thanks, Mr. Raccoon.

Now we take the feeders in at night so Constant Visitor won’t cost us too dearly as the summer unfolds. Those suet balls really add up, but I think before the season’s over I’ll spring for a great big one and call out our little friend.

We have some unfinished business and I’ll consider the photo op a belated birthday present for my lovely wife.