Nightmare in Crazy Town

My dryer is located on the back porch in a closet in my apartment. I have lived here for a while and over the past year the dryer has been slowing crapping the bed. It’s not a new dryer and it is my landlords dryer so I deal. I attempted to get a new dryer from a leasing place but they were all the ones with that need the huge outlet thing. My outlet thing is not connected and I really was not that pressed. If nothing else, I live down the street from a laundromat.

This morning, I went to the porch intending to get the towels out of the dryer and put some more things in. I open the back door and stepped out onto the enclosed porch.

Let me add something here. At least twice in the last year, I saw the back porch light on. It is a motion detecting light so the only way it comes on is, obviously, with motion. The first time this happened, I freaked out. He and I were home at the time, the boys were at their father’s place. I’m like in a full blown panic and I’m whispering that someone must be up here.

Normally people don’t panic when someone stops by, they may get slightly annoyed, but they don’t usually panic. We, the city of Crazy, had been experiencing a rash of home invasions and people were being threatened at gunpoint, tied up at tables, beat up, robbed and sometimes even shot, so unannounced visitors are usually cause for a little panic.

He grabs a kitchen knife and we head to the back(bringing a knife to a gun fight and all that jazz). He opens the back door and we investigate… Nothing was amiss.

The second time the light came on was just a few days ago, just me and the boys, and I had just kissed them goodnight. I saw the light on and looked out the peephole. I didn’t see or hear anything and had to put faith in the strength of my metal door and deadbolt. The investigation would have to wait until the morning and after I brought my kids to the some-what safety of school.

I looked back there and again, not a dust ball out of place.

Back to the story now… This morning I stepped onto the porch and heard a huge rustling. My heart thought fire and stopped, dropped and rolled. I quickly went back inside.. But these damn towels! more than half the stash!!! and now I would definitely have to go to the laundromat. I didn’t know what to do. First I thought rat, then opossum, then trapped bat. I finally settle on, this must be a raccoon.

I remember my uncle having a raccoon on his third floor porch way back in the day and it was a dangerous task removing it. I didn’t know what I should do or who to call. My mind went blank.

I felt like I needed some assistance. I needed a man to come get this damn raccoon off the porch so I can rescue my pocket from having to buy all new towels. I could not think of one single man for the job. I settled on a distraction so that I can handle it myself and I called my ex-husband. He is usually of no use but I needed to take my mind off of the huge beast in the back and needed someone to answer the phone if I didn’t make it to pick the kids up from school today due to death by raccoon.

He mumbled some crap about being at work and letting the cat check it out,  I wasn’t really listening, I was preparing my brain for battle. I was not going to let the cat out there because, although he is evil, he is still an indoor cat and would probably die too.

I grabbed my broom and steadied my heart. I banged on the door to the dryer room and the cat meowed in the background. The rustling noise got louder and louder, or maybe it was just the heart in the floorboards.

I linked my eyes and ears and trained them to the sound. I located it! It was coming from the shiny metal-ish vent thing that sends the dryer hotness outside. As I listened and watched the vent thingy move and shake, I noticed the defined sounds of whatever was in there. It sounded as if it was having a difficult time getting out. My brain went from raccoon to rat. I watched the thing move up and then fall down the incline. It didn’t even cross my mind that rats can’t fly, I was sure it was a rat… Until it made it to the top. I saw, through a small hole in the vent, what looked like a bird. It settle at the top of the vent until I tapped the vent with my broom and it flew away.

I was pissed! Why did the little creature want to hang out in my vent anyway? You can’t live here if you 1. don’t go to school on a full time basis or 2. don’t pay rent.

After further investigation, I found that this birdy was squatter. He had built a nest in the vent. It was probably 3 feet deep and packed tight. Even the vacuum couldn’t get it to budge, I had to go in by hand. He owes me money!




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