Bad move, raccoon.
Too many years ago, I worked in a paint factory across the road from a farmyard. A steer got loose, came in through the loading bay and created all kinds of mayhem before the police arrived. Picture one blue paint-splattered steer dancing around two policemen who had no clue what to do. In the end, both took off their belts and tried to restrain the beast with them. Steer then backed up to their patrol car, kicked in both headlights and took off down the road with the the police running in chase, trousers uncertain.
Laugh? Oh yes. The police driver had left his keys in the ignition and a man who shall remain nameless started up the car and concealed it in an out-building 'for safe keeping'. Eventually, back came two blown 'n' sweaty policemen for their car so they could give better chase - the steer had the legs on them and had disappeared in the general direction of the main road - to find no car. The look on their faces was priceless . . . and the steer returned of its own accord just as we gave the keys back.
Happy days.
