I let Misha (our female Akita) out into the yard tonight. She has a 60x140 fenced yard. She immediately lit off into the dark, I heard growling, knew there was a problem. I got a pair of shoes, a shovel and a flashlight. Misha had gotten a raccoon and had a bit of a fight. It was a quick fight, but the raccoon was still alive and obviously injured.
Now while this is happening the lovely Mrs_B comes out and she calls Misha to the patio. I have the raccoon pinned under the shovel. When the dog is inside I move back to let the raccoon loose. Only then did I realize the raccoon's back was broken. It crawled to the landscaped area along the fence but couldn't get out. I went up for a gun. I hate to kill animals like this but there was really no choice.
So I come down with a .223 and my wife is now on the patio begging me not to shoot. My daughter is screaming. She, being naive, wants to take the raccoon to the vet to get it fixed. My wife is worried I will shoot the neighbor's house. (I can hit 20 out of 25 targets on a trap range, not great, but good enough to know I won't shoot the neighbor's house unless I wanted to).
I did what needed to be done. But the gunshots put the dog into a panic, she barfed on the dinette floor and then hid under the piano in the music niche. I got rid of the raccoon and went in to make a Kahula & Coffee, sat down to find my daughter crying, my wife giving me the evil eye. I came upstairs. My wife now knows how badly the raccoon was hurt, she certainly understands. My daughter does not. She is sleeping on the floor next to our bed.
Now while this is happening the lovely Mrs_B comes out and she calls Misha to the patio. I have the raccoon pinned under the shovel. When the dog is inside I move back to let the raccoon loose. Only then did I realize the raccoon's back was broken. It crawled to the landscaped area along the fence but couldn't get out. I went up for a gun. I hate to kill animals like this but there was really no choice.
So I come down with a .223 and my wife is now on the patio begging me not to shoot. My daughter is screaming. She, being naive, wants to take the raccoon to the vet to get it fixed. My wife is worried I will shoot the neighbor's house. (I can hit 20 out of 25 targets on a trap range, not great, but good enough to know I won't shoot the neighbor's house unless I wanted to).
I did what needed to be done. But the gunshots put the dog into a panic, she barfed on the dinette floor and then hid under the piano in the music niche. I got rid of the raccoon and went in to make a Kahula & Coffee, sat down to find my daughter crying, my wife giving me the evil eye. I came upstairs. My wife now knows how badly the raccoon was hurt, she certainly understands. My daughter does not. She is sleeping on the floor next to our bed.