Boy this thread is all over the place: assault vehicles, sub-sonic sniper ammo, poopin' 'coons, road kill, porcupines etc.
I have an ongoing low intensity war with some neighborhood raccoons, myself. My cat-food is out side in a plastic "critter proof" container. The typical routine is, I hear the container being moved, I get the BB gun, I open the door and shoot once, I reload as the 'coon looks for the little hole in the screen and fire again and the 'coons run off and we reset for another night. Well I was sleeping pretty sound the other night when a commotion is heard on the porch. Apparently the head 'coon has ratcheted up the cat food operation. He had gnawed a tiny hole in the bottom of the cat-food container. My cats were perched on the old box spring standing on its end in over-watch and the raccoon looks at me as if he's saying, "So what's your problem buddy?" Well after the first BB we had come to an understanding that he was the problem at the moment. As I reload and pump, the 'coon goes all squirrelly and bumps the box spring. Now cats are caught up in the commotion. The box spring is falling all the cats have abandoned their posts in Operation Coon Whack and are heading for the small hole before the squirrelly raccoon does. At this moment, I see a juvenile raccoon beat the cats to the hole; apparently there was some unseen backup. I sight in the big 'coon again and this time I hit him in the cheek and he's really pissed now. I'm thinking that I may need to go to hand-to-hand with this fella. Its OK, I out weigh him by a couple hundred pounds. He sizes me up quickly, thinks better of it, and makes a break for the earlier mentioned small hole. He get about 5ft. off the porch and rears up on his hind legs. I know that I can shoot through the screen and still put a sting on a behind (don't ask). About this time I notice that an abandoned covered litter box seems to be moving. I pie the opening and see a small (12 week oldish) raccoon snout. Now I know the score, the "he" 'coon is a she and she has left a youngun' behind (definitely not winning raccoon mother of the year). Having a bit of compassion for my adversary, I scootch the abandoned litter box to the screen door and open it. It was like a freakin' raccoon clown car. Out pour, not one, not two, but three baby raccoons and they make a B line for mom.
The moral of the story? Heck, I don't know, but if I would have played my cards right I could struck a major blow in my conflict and could have gone into the 'coon skin cap business. Either that or the economy has hit everyone harder that you would think.