Varmints? Time for Operation Just Claus

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.

I drove back to my office and called 1-888-4LAPET1, then used the prompt system to transfer to the West Los Angeles office. I was on hold roughly five minutes when an operator named Rob took my call. “We’re understaffed,” he said when I told him about Brodesser-Akner’s ordeal. But even with a surge of calls, he said, the wait shouldn’t be more than several minutes.

Rob took my report and said an officer would be dispatched, but only two officers were working the entire west side of the city. Ramondo Navarette, one of the two, said they cover the area from LAX to Sunset and from the beach to Fairfax.

On this day, though, an officer was at Brodesser-Akner’s house less than an hour after I made the call. He couldn’t find the cat, but told Navarette he’d been there earlier in August after another resident reported the injured animal.

Back then, though, the officer couldn’t recover the cat because neighbors were uncooperative, according to Navarette. That happens at times, he said, because people often think incorrectly that all unclaimed animals are quickly put to sleep.

This time, however, officers called Brodesser-Akner and arranged for him to set a trap for the cat and monitor the cage. With any luck, the cat will soon be visiting the vet.

I told Navarette I could use a trap at my house, but not for a cat.

Sorry, he said. The city got out of the raccoon trapping business. Even if they tried, Navarette said, they couldn’t keep up.

“I tell people to watch the movie ‘Over the Hedge,’ ” he said. The animated children’s flick explains that the animals were here first and humans are stealing more and more of their natural habitat, forcing them to come foraging in yards for food and water, Navarette said.

Yeah, yeah, I know all about it. But what am I supposed to do, hide out in the house while wild animals dig trenches and aqueducts in the yard?

In the course of our conversation, Navarette said he has two pit bulls named Valentine and Chaos, four fish, five lizards, three frogs, three cats and a rabbit.

Wait a minute. An animal control officer with pit bulls?

“They’re the best dogs you can own,” he said, insisting that how they behave depends on how they’re raised.

“Chihuahuas, Pomeranians and Labradors will turn on their owners and maul their faces off,” he said.

I must have missed those stories.

Could I borrow Chaos, I wondered, to scare away my raccoons?

A pit bull would be no match for a raccoon, Navarette said.

That’s a frightening thought, given the huge population of raccoons, very few of which are on leashes.

Navarette referred me to the city’s lone wild-animal officer, Greg Randall, for help. When I reached Randall, he had just returned from two days off to find 72 wild-animal reports -- “raccoon came through cat door” and “raccoon living under house,” to name just two -- forwarded from the six regional centers.

Raccoons generally have babies in the spring, Randall said, and by mid-summer the adults begin teaching the youngsters how to forage. Great, and my yard has been turned into some kind of training academy.

I’ve done all the right things by trying to eliminate food sources, Randall said. Trapping is useless, he added, because they just keep coming.

Randall told me to get some beneficial nematodes, which are microscopic worms that dig into the soil and eat grubs and other raccoon delicacies. For heavy artillery, he suggested I buy a “motion-activated device,” such as a scarecrow that shoots a stream of water at raccoons. I was sold on the idea until he told me about one of the most effective deterrents he’s ever encountered.

“This guy bought a motion-activated, 5-foot-tall dancing Santa Claus. His arms go up and he sings Christmas songs. The guy put him in the yard, I think it was in the Hollywood Hills, and tied bells to his hands.”

Randall sent me a link to the dancing Santa, which is sold by Wal-Mart. The website says he sings “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.”

Be sure to check this space for updates on the injured cat and the raccoon wars.

Meanwhile, I’m off to Wal-Mart. It’s going to be Christmas in August.

On a completely different note, Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger on Friday made it impossible not to be cynical about politics and government when he eliminated one of the most successful and celebrated programs to aid the chronically mentally ill in California.

The governor axed $55 million in funding for AB 2034, which kept several thousand people housed and cared for instead of living on streets and ricocheting through police stations, courtrooms, hospitals and jails.

Meanwhile, the Legislature saved a $45-million tax break for yacht, plane and RV purchases.

Thank you, Sacramento.

Mental health officials plan to meet this week to consider a legal challenge to the governor’s cuts. They are also scrambling to find funds to preserve at least some of the AB 2034 programs.

Stay tuned.

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steve.lopez@latimes.com