Last year I had raccoons terrorizing my garbage can and compost pail. We would place the compost from the day on the back steps and bury it in the garden pile the next day, but every night they would tip the pail over and eat. I replaced the plastic pail with a 10-gallon galvanized can - didn't help. I then placed a 20-pound stone on top of the galvanized can, but that became too much effort for the family members to deal with.
So I traded in my Taurus 9mm for a nice little S&W .22 and a box of CCI hollowpoints. Took two of them out at about 20 feet, running away from the tipped-over bucket.
Then they got into the garbage. I had a regular plastic can, tight-sealed lid, they would pry it off and rip open the bags. They had a schedule. Right about 10 pm they would visit and raid. I waited in my basement office, goofing off on the computer, heard noise outside. Now the cans are about 30 feet from my basement door. I look outside and there's 5 of them - one on each of three cans (trash and recycling), one on my hose reel, and one approaching the basement door and about 3 feet away. They are not scared when the motion sensor light comes on. I literally opened the door, reached down and put a .22 bullet in the closest one's head at a range of about 4 inches. Then took out two more before they had figured out what happened. It was like one of those westerns - pop the first one and take out his buddies a few seconds later.
Somehow I don't feel like they deserved my time or effort in being buried, so they all went in big trash bags and visited the packer truck at the transfer station the next day.
That was the last time I saw any of them last year, but I have a new one who is eating the trash again. Big 'un too, judging by the size of his paw prints - I'll have to stalk another one.
So I traded in my Taurus 9mm for a nice little S&W .22 and a box of CCI hollowpoints. Took two of them out at about 20 feet, running away from the tipped-over bucket.
Then they got into the garbage. I had a regular plastic can, tight-sealed lid, they would pry it off and rip open the bags. They had a schedule. Right about 10 pm they would visit and raid. I waited in my basement office, goofing off on the computer, heard noise outside. Now the cans are about 30 feet from my basement door. I look outside and there's 5 of them - one on each of three cans (trash and recycling), one on my hose reel, and one approaching the basement door and about 3 feet away. They are not scared when the motion sensor light comes on. I literally opened the door, reached down and put a .22 bullet in the closest one's head at a range of about 4 inches. Then took out two more before they had figured out what happened. It was like one of those westerns - pop the first one and take out his buddies a few seconds later.
Somehow I don't feel like they deserved my time or effort in being buried, so they all went in big trash bags and visited the packer truck at the transfer station the next day.
That was the last time I saw any of them last year, but I have a new one who is eating the trash again. Big 'un too, judging by the size of his paw prints - I'll have to stalk another one.
