I report to you today from the wilds of Los Angeles, home to thousands of feral cats, countless rattlesnakes, the occasional mountain lion and the most feared and dangerous of all wild beasts -- the Silver Lake raccoon.
Yes, the raccoons are back, more destructive and arrogant than ever.
"Why do you have pans of beer in your frontyard?" little Junior, the baby sitter's son, wanted to know the other day.
Because we don't have any grenades, that's why.
The lovely, normally mild-mannered Alison is tired of seeing plants and turf bulldozed and fountain pumps ripped out and shredded. She heard that beer can work as a deterrent. Like everything else -- cayenne pepper, coyote urine, grub killer, mothballs, etc. -- Miller Genuine Draft works for a day or two, and then the varmints are back.
We're about to try an entirely different approach, but let me back up first and explain how I stumbled upon the latest battlefield strategy.
It began with a call from West L.A. resident Claude Brodesser-Akner, who was exasperated by several failed attempts to get a human being on the line when he called Los Angeles Animal Services to report an injured cat that wouldn't let anyone get close enough to help it.
"It looks like it was hit by a car, and it has one leg dangling," said Brodesser-Akner, who told me he had hung up on L.A. Animal Services after being on hold for more than 10 minutes. He is host of KCRW's "The Business" and L.A. bureau chief for Advertising Age.
Feeling guilty about my hostility toward raccoons, I thought I could restore my karmic balance by saving the cat, so I drove to the Pico-Robertson area to give it a try. It didn't seem to belong to anyone in particular, Brodesser-Akner had said. He found it sad commentary that the city was too big and indifferent for anyone to come to the aid of an animal in agony.
"I don't know why I was shocked," he said. "Someone hit my wife's car, and when we called the police, no one showed up."
It took me several minutes to locate the hobbled cat, which looked at me with terror in its eyes. The cat was white, with gray spots around its head, and its front left paw was awkwardly bent and obviously broken. When I stepped toward it, the cat limped along near a hedge and disappeared into a crawl space under Brodesser-Akner's building.
