I killed a raccoon in front of its family. I felt guilty but they were trying to break into my house and no matter what deterrent I tried, it didn't slow their actions down. Hell, they would get on their hind legs and peak in as we ate. We pretended not to see them, but right when we turned and looked, they would hide.
I skinned the one I killed, because like most true blooded Americans I wanted a Daniel Boone hat. I wrapped the skin on a flat rock and set it in the sun. A few minutes later a freaking hawk swooped down and ripped the pelt free and takes it. I was pissed because I skinned the raccoon with a super dull knife.
It worked, the raccoon family stopped pestering us. I didn't kill the raccoon with a gun. I hid on my roof until sunset, that's when they would encroach; I dropped a 25pnd dumbbell on it. Like I said, I felt guilty.