(Not Too) Close encounters of the Procyonic kind

[truepenny]

So last night I went out on the porch to bring in the food and water bowls I put out for the feralistas. And there was a raccoon.

I learned something instantaneously, which is that I had not known how big raccoons are. I mean, I thought I knew, but there's a difference between that and being less than ten feet from one, at which point it upgrades immediately to BIG MOTHERFUCKING RACCOON ON MY PORCH.

Happily, the raccoon had no interest in tangling with me. It did what the feralistas do, which is to retreat to the other side of the porch railings and pretend to be invisible. And since I had no interest in tangling with the raccoon, I about-faced and went back inside.

Later, mirrorthaw told me that when he checked again, the raccoon was happily making use of the water bowl in exactly the way stereotypes about raccoons would lead you to expect. (Dude, free water! Most excellent!) And this morning, the water bowl has been moved about a foot--and has significantly less water in it than is usually the case--and someone's busy little paws have peeled half the protective rubber strip off the rim of the food bowl.

I'm going to be more conscientious about bringing the bowls in before sunset and hope the feralistas can keep from tangling with the raccoon. I'm sure it's not new to the neighborhood--possibly it's not new to our porch. But although I have nothing against raccoons, I would really prefer it not become a regular visitor.

(BIG. MOTHERFUCKING. RACCOON.)

Comments

[poodlerat.livejournal.com]

About a decade ago my father lived in an apartment where the living room windows looked out over the front porch roof. Every night when he watched television, two baby raccoons would creep up onto the porch roof and watch TV through the windows. As soon as he turned off the TV they would creep away again. Very cute--mostly because they were still very small. Adult raccoons are scary.