The monster in our backyard

Well, I called Arlington County Animal Control this morning, as required for any wild animal bite. Their local raccoon expert took our address and gave lots of sympathy and said this: The crazy killer actually was acting "normally" for a raccoon, especially a young one. She also confirmed it probably was a raccoon (the same one?) who shredded Lucy's inflatable pool last weekend -- "for fun."

Ugh. They don't trap them. There's just too many. She was a little worried about whether or not David could have gotten any raccoon saliva on his hands when he grabbed Blue. Even though the raccoon acted normally, he/she still could have rabies. Fortunately, they don't give post-exposure rabies shots in the stomach anymore. It's six shots over 28 days in your arm. But he still doesn't want to do it. He doesn't think he got raccoon juice on him. He used a baby blanket.

Anyway, raccoons are bad. And if you needed more evidence, read this story about a marauding gang of vicious Washington State raccoons responsible for at least 10 cat murders and one human attack. These raccoons are so smart they've actually taught each other how to avoid traps.

Still don't know what to tell Lucy. David said something this morning about the "monster in our backyard," and of course her ears perked up. "Wha' monster?" Quickly, he amended, "Oh, there's no monster anymore. I scared it away." She nodded. Hm. "Where'd it go Daddy?"

Where, indeed!