Last night I heard a noise on the deck. I turned the outside light on, and there was a raccoon peering through the door. Maybe he was trying to get a better look at Sophie, who certainly wasn't jumping at the door and doing her pathetic spitting for a change. I knocked on the door, and he backed up a few feet but continued to look at me. Then, he went over to a pot and got up on his hindlegs and started to dig. Right in front of me. I was up to pounding on the door by then, and he stopped for a minute and gave me that indignant WHAT???? look I've seen on so many animals' faces over the years. Then he waddled off and down the steps and over to Bernard Scott's food. I haven't seen Bernie in a couple of days - guess I've been feeding a raccoon.
This morning everything was intact. Good thing, too, because I have a bunch of new growth on my roses and I was ready to self-destruct if they're eaten.
(No jokes, please, about putting my glasses on so I don't let him in by mistake.)
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