Not entirely prepared….

Seems we have a mild case of Otters.  A family of the little stink bombs moved in under the boatshed while we were away.  When that happens (more common than you might think) we have always sprinkled granulated bleach around their preferred area and that usually drives them away.  But, we are out of granulated bleach.  “Just have Dave, pee on ’em” said one of our long established neighbours who should know about these things.

“So, how long do I have to pee on them?”

“Until they are gone, silly!”

“If you were an otter, how long would you stick around if you were being peed on?”

“I would leave the second you started and I would never, ever come back.”

“Maybe you should be the one doing the peeing…?”

“No way.  Males were built for that….peeing on others is easy for you….it’s harder for women.”

“But the neighbour who advised us is female.  What are you saying, ‘for lack of a penis, she’s been overrun with with otters?”

“No.  I am sure she improvises.”

“I wanna see that!” 

“Fine.  I’ll ask her to do a YOU-Tube.  Now go do your duty!”

Peeing on an otter is not as easy as it sounds.  And, for the record, it doesn’t sound easy at all.  First off the otters choose a ‘hide-a-way’, tucked up under the boatshed.  It might have two or three feet headroom.  Most men can pee anywhere but some places are harder than others.  Crouching down to less than three feet while standing on extremely irregular ground makes for some creative streaming that doesn’t always go where it was intended.  But that is NOT the hard part.

The hard part was the instruction to pee ‘ON’ the otter.  The instruction was not to pee in the vicinity of the otter but rather more specifically to find a way to douse the little fur-ball in offensive human urine.  Preferably in the face! (OK, I made that part up but once the otter is trapped, it is gonna look at what is coming and that kinda suggests peeing-in-their-face to me.)

Otters can defend themselves, you know?  They have razor sharp teeth.  And they know how to use them.  They bite.  And what would be the most logical target for a desperate otter in such a circumstance?  My guess?  Hint: it is every man’s greatest fear.

One might end up simply feeding the otters and not driving them away at all.  That would be a major disappointment and not in the least a small challenge for our First Aid kit.  “I am having second thoughts about chasing otters with my dick hanging out.  You sure you heard that right?”

“Why not pee in a bottle and then throw the bottle at the otter?”

“Now you’re talkin’….

 

 

8 thoughts on “Not entirely prepared….

  1. At our place the otters get into our dock structure. They get between the deck surface and the floatation tanks below. You can see ’em though the spaces between the deck boards, just a few inches below your feet. I don’t mind them being there so much, but they like to takes dumps on our boat mooring lines (just to piss us off) and the decking too. So we can easily piss on ’em through the deck openings. Even the women folk could manage that.

    I never heard before of golden showers as an anti-otter tactic. So I am cramming for my first piss test. I’ll let you know if I pass.

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  2. I think cougars are usually found to be prowling in sports bars. The next move is yours. ‘’I’ve got an otter problem!” ‘’It will require some micturition, can I buy you a drink?”

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    • It almost doesn’t really matter which species of cougar we are talking about – collecting their urine is dicey at best.

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  3. Don’t human kind have a wonderful sense of humor. We had otters find their way into our sailboat what a mess virtually had to throw the cushion covers away. Dead (thank God) fish heads under my pillow. Finally built chicken wire around all my opening air-vents. To top this off had two sightings of an otter walking through our back yard. lucky had a house full of people to witness this event or who would have believed me. Otter proofed my back yard. We live in Steveston only a couple of blocks from the Fraser River. All our best getting Sally to pee on those creatures.

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  4. When we lived on Pender Island (which is now just a suburb of Vancouver and Victoria, so probably no more otters), they would come out of the sea in family groups and frolic on our decks. They loved to poop on our doormats. They would then head inland half a mile to where a neighbour had stocked a pond with trout. Needless to say, the trout did not last long.

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