Funmurphys: the Blog

Suburban Nightmare

This morning my routine was just like every other workday morning - roll out of bed, shower, eat, make my lunch, head out the door for work. But then reality divurged from normal.

Somehow the gasket on the bottom of my garage door was shredded and laying on the garage floor. But it didn't stop there. Something gnawed on the bottom of the garage door. Something had gotten into the bag of sand I keep for gardening -- you never know when a soil emergency will strike. Something had gotten into the garbage in a desultory way. Something had shredded the gasket on my wife's garage door, gnawed on the bottom of the door, and defecated on a piece of the gasket. I had my suspicions, and when I discovered that something had knocked a bag of diatomaceous earth off a shelf and then walked through it, the paw prints confirmed it - a racoon had invaded my garage.

My wife had left the garage door open for a couple of hours after dark last night, and the bandit had made his way in to gorge on dog food, leaving little room for garbage. He must have been startled when my wife closed the door and frantic in his search for escape. I only hope he ran off this morning when I opened the door, but if I know his kind, and I do, he'll be back to feast on the Iams as soon as it's dark again. But this time, we'll be ready.