We got rid of our dog door because of raccoons. 3:00 in the morning, me dancing around in the backyard in my underwear trying to figure out how to seperate raccoon and dog, and wondering how in suburban Seattle to quietly finish off the half dead raccoon and/or dog when it's over.

I don't mean to play up the "pit bulls are tough" trope, but damn that's the only dog I've seen walk away from a 'coon with only a few scratches, no trip to the vet. It was the raccoon's lucky day, too, as he scampered off to tell his friends. I'm serious, that's what the raccoon did, because we haven't seen a raccoon in the neighborhood three years since.