Awesome. A few years ago I'm sitting in my living room and I hear this 'scratching' overhead. It's Saturday night. My husband says, I'll deal with it tomorrow. Fine. I am actually running a half marathon Sunday morning- so he's going to call a friend to help him take care of it. After running 13.1 miles, I come home to find a few friends enjoying beers in the yard. Then I hear shots. Turns out mama 'coon decided my attic was a good place to have her babies. They were wedged all the way over, so a small cutout in the soffit and they were able to get all of the babies out. They were dead when I came home, and I didn't ask questions. But mama wasn't giving up so easily. A few hours of hunting her down in the insultation, and luckily no holes in my roof from the small gague gun- and mama was taken care of as well. Interesting Sunday to say the least.