I moved slowly through the bushes, not wanting to scare the seemingly innocent creature. Anyone who knew what this thing animal’s habits were, or took a quick stoppage from their day to glimpse into its doings, would rapidly realize that this was no virtuous critter. With it’s sneering, pinched facial shape and visage that was dabbled in far too much eye shadow, the raccoon sniffed through the garbage of a local pizza place.
My job was to capture it. Beyond raccoon removal, I operated squirrel removal and bat removal enterprises. While I never hurt the animals, it was my job to keep them from people’s properties; they can be kept as good pets, but wild, raccoons could and would destroy anything in their path to food.
Many people do not realize the intelligence that resides in the average raccoon. Studies have shown that they can understand simple locking mechanisms, remember and differentiate between symbols, and have extraordinary senses of touch. They also group into far more complex social structures than other animals, and mostly live nocturnally, depending on food sources.
This particular fellow was scrounging up the remains of a certain pepperoni pizza. It was evident that he did not see me approaching; if he had, he would have certainly bolted. He kept his position, digging through the half empty pizza boxes, grasping them with his petite hands, as I moved towards him calmly and with deliberation. He only looked up once, in the opposite direction, towards a car’s loud backfiring; before he knew what was happening, I had him caught in my net. As I held him there, he started struggling, looking for a way out a place to which there was none; once he realized this, he turned towards me, his known capture, and stared with the fury of a thousand suns.
I brought him back to my van, and moved him into the large cage I kept for the purpose of transporting his kind. As I made my way into the driver’s seat, I could hear him scratching at the walls, once again hoping that there was a way back to freedom, back to the delectable morsels that would never again feel his presence. I turned the key, and gently set off towards his new destination. None the wiser, his scratching continued.
For 30 minutes I drove, moving patiently towards the raccoon’s new home. By now he had settled down, accepted his fate, and if there was a raccoon god, his prayers were going unanswered.
At the time I pulled into the parking lot, the sun was once again returning. I put the car back in park, just as it had been when this journey started, and got out. He had realized that we had stopped moving, and had once again became restless. I opened the rear doors, and when he saw me, his furious stare returned. I pulled the cage from the van, set it down upon the ground, and opened the door.and this is why people call us the experts in raccoon removal chicago.