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Not only will they eat your pets food, they leave behind real nasty droppings in your yard. Here's some medical facts to ponder.


Raccoon droppings may carry several potentially dangerous diseases. Rabies is one of the worst, but rare. Viral canine distemper is periodically a big issue as raccoon populations build to the point that crowding becomes common.

As the canine distemper virus builds, you may start seeing raccoons foraging in the daytime and acting more aggressively than usual. Other animals, including house pets, are vulnerable to the virus, which can be spread through contact with a diseased animal or through their droppings (which dogs find fascinating).

Recently, however, raccoons have been recognized as the main host for an even more dangerous parasite called Baylisascaris procyonis. This is a disgusting roundworm that can cause extremely serious disease conditions in humans.

Indeed, for vulnerable groups such as children and the elderly, as well as those with compromised immune systems, exposure to this roundworm can be fatal.

Most exposure occurs when humans have direct or indirect contact with raccoon droppings, which can contain millions of roundworm eggs. Although the roundworms themselves can survive only inside an animal host, their eggs are extremely tough and can remain viable for years in soil, sand or even water. Thus, people can come into contact with old and decomposed raccoon droppings without realizing it.

For people, exposure symptoms include nausea, skin irritations, fatigue, inattention, loss of coordination and muscle control, as well as liver enlargement, blindness and coma. If you have come into contact with raccoon droppings, seek medical assistance as soon as possible. If promptly treated, the worms can be killed before they migrate through the whole body (now there's a hideous image).

When cleaning up raccoon feces, always wear protective gear, including rubber gloves. Several health departments recommend wearing rubber boots, disposable overalls and a well-made respirator as well.

Double-bag all droppings and burn them if possible. If not, bury them deeply (at least three feet deep). Unless they are very well bagged, don't just toss them in the trash, since the eggs will remain viable for years and could infect a human or an investigating animal.
 
Wrong breed of dog. Try one of these...

Sky_BoomerCropped.jpg

This 'un probly woulda handled the situation a bit differntly as well: PB010518_zps787e1cfb.jpg
 
write s&w and see what they can do for you. don't expect a replacement for free, but maybe they can fix you up cheaper than a new one would cost.

also, suppressed 300blk next time.
 
I keep four axes of various handle lengths leaning against the brick. What was the question? Biting sharp is the answer. not difficult for some perhaps
 
There's a thing about 'coons. I speak from literally intimate experience. I had one as a partner (flatlanders would say I had a pet) for all three years of my high school time. I got her as an orphan, eyes closed. Raised her like a human baby to 32 pounds of maturity. Turned her loose to live as she already knew.

She was never confined, except on extremely rare occasions when someone would come to our house and did not know about wild animals. She came and went as she pleased, and when fully grown would depart for 2-3 weeks at a time, and then return. The best I can describe the experience is that it was very much like having a two year-old human living in the home than cannot be disciplined. Parents of autistic human children may be able to relate.

All the cupboard doors and all the kitchen cabinets and doors had to be secured 24-7. The bathroom door had to be closed at all times (otherwise, a full roll of toilet paper would be shredded and laundered into the bowl).

As to "viciousness", most Blue-Heeler, Doberman, German Shepherd and Pit Bull owners could relate to the fact that she was extremely loyal and loving to those she knew, extremely accomodating and loving to strangers that her family seemed comfortable with, and would run and hide from persons toward whom she did not share the same comfort. If they pressed contact, she would tolerate only begrudgingly, give warning, and then she was done.

She never bit anyone to draw blood except myself, and rightly deserved. She was an essential and pivotal member of our family for three years, and her most loved person (and the person that loved her most) was my grandmother. Somehow, Grandma Wells was an instant "acceptable" where Rosemary Cooney was asked to evaluate. Grandma and Cooney loved and enjoyed each other to the point of my jealousy.

In all the same time period, I was actively trapping and shooting 'coons, and just beginning to run hounds against them. Living with one as a family member did not seem like a contradiction.

She went everywhere with me, and my Biology teacher in High School, and my local Veterinarian were stalwart advisors through her infancy and rearing to maturity. Mom always liked to go to downtown Portland during Christmas season, and so Cooney went with us, perched on my shoulder, even through Meier and Frank. Believe it or not, some asked if she was a monkey, and more asked "Does she bite?" I always answered, "Well, she has teeth." Cooney never disappointed when they reached their hand out to scratch her head. She was a Country Girl in the City, and minded her manners perfectly.

She almost killed a dog one time. There was a wolf-mix shepherd in the neighborhood that (I found out later) had been summarily judged a "dangerous dog" by the County, got off its leash, came in our yard, and treed Cooney on top of a cedar fence post. Fortunately, I was home, heard the commotion, came out to see Cooney on the post, and the dog leaping for her. She leaped a foot higher, landed on the dog's head, attached herself, and then became a Waring Blender.

I got a phone call from the dog owner, threatening to sue me for keeping a wild animal, saying their dog was on its death-bed, missing one ear, and ripped from mouth-corner to ear on the other side. I panicked. Then another neighbor came forward to tell me their child had been attacked by that dog last year, and that dog was not to be off the leash ever. I phoned back the dog owner with my new info, and they chose to drop the matter. I had a lot to lose: not only a nearly human family member (she ate at the table with us with perfect manners), but my Vet had been doing all his advice and treatment on the sly (and on the cheap) for me with her, and I flew under the radar against getting a wild animal permit, and all that crap that no long-haired high school kid in 1971 can deal with.

Raccoons are among the very few of wild animals that easily make the transition from domestication to wild. Cooney always had (and regularly used) the wild option. I had an enlistment coming, and so drove her out to Spruce Run State Park, with a 50 lb bag of her favorite dog food, and cut her loose. Eight months later, my brother was camping at Spruce Run, and she came into his camp (with five youngsters) to beg for handouts. She came to his call, and the youngsters were just as comfortable then.

I love them.

I still hunt them. They are uniquely American, intelligent beyond belief, and the Wolverine holds nothing beyond them in a fight.
 
Naw, she's purebred, but Plott. Check the Brindle. My first hound was Redbone/Plott/Black and Tan. All Brindle. (I never owned a pack). I started readin' up pretty hard on the Plotts. My second hound was a Bluetick/Plott cross. All Brindle. My third hound was a "store-bought" Plott (purebred) from Arkansas, and probably foundation stock for the very first registry of the breed into AKC. I hold those first-year papers.

Antigone ("Tig") who "owns" that 4-wheeler (but never made a payment on it), is a paperless dog that shows stripeys all the way to her *** in the summer, and looks black and brindle in the winter. Don't matter to me: she's crazy nuts for anything that stinks, runs or squirms. Actually, she's crazy nuts all the rest of the time too, but what the hell.

And might I say, if those are YOUR Blueticks, they not only get the ribbon for the ugliest dogs in the county, but the best fed!
 
The Lost Technology of the butt-stroke. It went away with the retirement of the Springfield '03 and the Garand. Now we're just like Captain Kirk on the Enterprise, lacking seatbelts.

As stated previously, I'll bet Smith and Wesson has a decision-making person in the Customer Service Department with either a good sense of humor, or with at least the ability to recognize a great story. It'd be great PR for them to make you whole again. When you write them, be sure and list any other Smith guns you own or plan to own, how absolutely flawless they are, etc., etc., etc, ad nauseum, all the while recognizing your own responsibility for the fracture. You might also quote the number of participants there are on this website, and that all are waiting to hear how Smith handles this.

As for 'coons and .22's, A CCI Mini Mag Hollowpoint in the brain pan is always reliable (or at least has been for me in 40 plus years of runnin' hounds and trapping).

How'd yer dog fare on this scrap?

Good point, mine and my girlfriends ccw's are both s&w (mp40 and shield). Dog was fine, just a little scratch on his nose. Only reason he was out there was if he didn't see me kill it he would of kept trying to crawl underneath the shed
 

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