I'm not feeling too good, rather wobbly, very painful cramps and unexpected nature calls.
It got worse, I discovered that part of the ceiling upstairs had collapsed and the floor was covered with ground up isolation (glass fibre I think). I searched the house for a wild animal, I found none, though there were traces on the stairs. I turned all the lights on and opened the front door and returned upstairs.
And there it was, behind a sofa, cowering, scared stiff – as big as a large dog. The internet was useless: "Don't feed it!" or call the Kammerjaeger or play loud music.
I shouted at it, to run down the stairs and go out the door. It disappeared further under the sofa. I tried a smoke alarm – they make much noise – to no avail.
I tried the Paradise Radio Rock Mix at highest volume and prodded it with the vacuum cleaner hose. The racoon ran down the stairs and away. What a fat lump, maybe it was pregnant.
Rather shaken up. Love, Tarquin