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So I had this raccoon problem. One night I saw it digging through my trash like it owned the place. I banged a pan to scare it off. It just looked at me, unbothered, and walked away like, “Okay, dude, chill.”
The next night? It brought a friend. Next night? Three raccoons. By night four, it looked like the Fast & Furious crew of trash pandas had assembled outside my house. I tried everything—motion lights, vinegar, blasting Taylor Swift. Nothing worked. I swear one of them flipped me off once. Then it escalated. I opened my door one night and found my trash neatly dumped in a circle like some kind of offering. I don’t know if they were mocking me or summoning something. Eventually, I caved and bought one of those expensive animal-proof bins. Haven’t seen them since. I still leave out a peace offering slice of bread every Friday, though. Just in case.
TL;DR: Tried to scare one raccoon. It brought friends. I accidentally started a turf war and lost. Now I pay raccoon taxes in bread.
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