Raccoons in the Attic.

Hi Guys:

Some time ago (last summer to be exact) my wife and I became aware that there was some sort of creature in our attic. We kept hearing noises and finally our Daughter came downstairs and told us a Racoon was trying to get in her bedroom window.
When I checked outside the next day I found that raccoons had chewed the mullions (also called muntens) of eight windows upstairs all to bits in an effort to get in. One or more had even broken one of the window in its effort.
I immediately called the window replacement guy (you've seen him on T.V. Jumping  up and down on one of his windows) I asked him if, in addition to sustain walking-on  would his windows be Racoon proof. After being assured that they would be, I ordered new windows and within a few weeks the new windows arrived. AFTER the windows had been installed and the window guys had departed, the next night my wife and I heard noises again.
The next day I examined  the new windows and found not a scratch, bite mark, dried raccoon poop or any other signs of attempted entry by coons. I finally found that they were entering through a hole they had torn in my almost new one million dollar roof  (well it seemed like a million when I wrote the check) and we STILL heard noises.
the next day I called some Animal Control specialists. they came out and after a trip in the attic they assured me that we DID most assuredly have Racoons, which they would remove for only about five or six thousand dollars. they also, in an effort to bring me to, after I fainted, mentioned Homeowners Insurance. Oh Boy !
I called our Home Owners Insurance, who, I'm pretty sure, have a seat on the G8 council, and they scheduled a visit by his Holiness Igor the Adjuster,
A few days later I was setting in our sunroom when a blare of trumpets startled me into pouring a cup of coffee in my lap. When I answered the door I beheld a fellow alighting from a Rolls Royce (Just kidding it was only a stretch Limo) He had a black hood on and carried a huge double-bitted axe over one naked shoulder. One of his assistants preceded him into our home and hurled me into a corner. Snarling at me and burying his battle axe into our sofa he said "ALL RIGHT WHERE ARE THESE IMAGINARY RACOONS"I showed him upstairs, being careful not to step on any of the rose petals his squad of hirelings had scattered for his excellency to trod on with his ermine slippers. Since  his imperial-all-seeing-all-knowing wizard was about six feet eight inches tall, he sent one of his minions into the attic to investigate. When this underling emerged later, covered with raccoon dung from head to toe where the creatures had hurled it at him, being fresh out of Frankinsense and laurel wreaths, and the hireling, after scraping enough of the feces from his mouth to allow him speech (and wiping it on a convenient rag(my shirt) announced that there might be raccoons indeed in my attic. After his Majesty threw me down the stairs to remind me of my lowly status as a mere premium payer, kicking me out of his way when he swept majestically down the stairs, he proceeded to measure every room in the house, (without recording the measurements, just as a reminder to me of my absolute unimportance, then took approximately 35,000 photographs of the interior of the house, pausing only to detach a pesky raccoon who was biting him on the shoulder of his red velvet singlet, then sent one of his trolls out to his carriage to fetch a parchment scroll and wrote a note saying that it seemed (yawn) that we MIGHT have a minor raccoon problem, and that the company( Name withheld as My security clearance would  only allow me entrance to the White house and other inimportat structures) and on fear of death I was forbidden to mention the name, would, out of the bigness of their huge hearts would send me a few dollars, from which I was to completely rebuild my house and paint it Red, so that the neighbors (the common kind-as opposed to ---the forbidden name) would know of their beneficence. I eventually received a letter from the 73rd assistant to the deputy assistant Adjuster, enclosing a check for about seven dollars and an autographed picture of the Pope, who I found later was the 72nd assistant , who, in a Papal Bull, notified me that they most assuredly WOULD NOT pay me for my windows as I had, in my stupidity, failed to make a video of the Racoons in council, voting to chew on my windows, and a continuation of them doing just that.

The moral of this story, which I write from my Hospital bed, is IF YOU HAVE RACOONS JUST LIVE WITH THEM, THEY ARE, AFTER ALL, OF A HIGHER ORDER OF INTELLIGENCE THAN INSURANCE ADJUSTERS .


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