Did I say I don't like raccoons?

Yep. I was right. Too easy. The raccoon was back yesterday evening, well before dark. He was digging up what the squirrels had buried. Nuts, I suppose. And eating them.

This time I was upstairs on my bedroom deck. I banged things and yelled and waved my arms. He wasn't alarmed, and he didn't go anywhere very fast.

I was looking for something heavy to throw at him. All I had was a flower pot, which would have broken, no doubt.

I don't know if it's the same raccoon. It looked bigger. I don't like it.

Rudy says he'll bring a trap. Linda says try wasp spray.

I think I'll try both.