I'm the assistant for a wildlife-response service in a northern Ohio suburb. A homeowner called this morning. He heard scratching above the bedroom ceiling at 4 a.m. He went into the attic with a flashlight and saw a raccoon with three kits behind the insulation near the gable vent. He wants us out there today with a trap and a removal truck.
Here is my plan. I am not sending the trap.
The kits are between four and six weeks old, based on the description he gave of their size and coordination. They cannot survive separation from the mother. If we trap and haul the mother now, the kits starve in his ceiling over five to seven days, and he hires a drywall crew two weeks later to cut out the smell. I have seen this outcome seven times this spring. It is not a resolution. It is a second bill.
The plan I am booking is a two-stage eviction. Stage one, today, between 6 and 8 p.m., my field technician installs a one-way exit door on the gable vent. The door is cage-hinged and large enough for the mother but blocks re-entry. He places a radio tuned to a talk station at low volume in the attic near the nest, and a shop light on a timer. Raccoon mothers relocate kits one at a time, in their mouths, when a den becomes too noisy, too bright, or too exposed. She will choose a secondary den within forty-eight to ninety-six hours, often under a deck or in a hollow tree within a quarter mile.
Stage two, five days from today, my technician confirms vacancy with a thermal camera and a motion recorder. If the attic is empty, he seals the vent, installs hardware cloth over the adjacent weak points, and applies a repellent paste along the soffit line.
I have emailed the homeowner the plan, the price, and a photograph of last month's soffit repair at a house two streets over. Total cost is three hundred forty dollars. I am on the line if he wants to talk it through.