Not A Euphemism

      We have raccoons in our chimney.  There is no fireplace at Roseholme Cottage, but there used to be a coal-burning furnace, with a flue ten inches in diameter feeding the chimney at a point about four feet above the floor, well below where the gas furnace and water heater now connect with standard four-inch flues.

     The big, capped flue and empty lower chimney must have looked like a good deal to the raccoons this Fall.  They came and went fairly quietly, with occasional scrabbling sounds; the main gang (the official collective nouns include a nursery, a mask or a gaze) in our neighborhood lives in the storm drains, and relocates during heavy rain.  But a few of them favor rooftops, and they'd spent some time on our neighbor's roof and chimney a couple of years ago.

     They began using our radon vent pipe as a handy ladder to our roof, and getting in the chimney.  I figured the furnace fumes would force them out this Winter, but apparently once they're lower than the connection point, the draft draws in sufficient fresh air.

     Now they're living in there, coming and going at all hours, making various raccoon noises, and being worrisome.  It's gotten to be too much.  I've scheduled a raccoon relocator to stop by tomorrow, look the situation over and give us a quote, and there's a chimney firm lined up to follow him with a genuine raccoon-proof cap, or proof until the raccoons figure it out, and clean the chimney out before they install it.

     Ahh, Nature!  This is at least less strange than the squirrel that had apparently become addicted to furnace fumes, and would wriggle into the flue and lay there, inhaling hot carbon monoxide and shutting down the furnace by obstructing the draft.  That was quite a few years ago and I eventually installed a hardware-cloth barrier in the flue.  There's no easy fix for raccoons -- clever, strong and dexterous, they call for heavier forces than I can bring to bear.