The Midnight Ride of Rocky Raccoon

Last night, I stuck a bag of garbage out on our side porch, intending to carry it out to the can this morning. My husband heard some rustling outside the kitchen door and called me over.

Investigating the plastic bag was a big, beautiful raccoon. I know they can be vicious (I've even heard of them attacking small dogs) and some carry rabies, but this fellow looked playful and--dare I say it?--cute. He looked very purposeful, scratching at the bag, no doubt trying to get at the carton of leftover Chinese food I knew to be at the bottom.

Jim tapped lightly on the kitchen door window, and our raccoon ran down the steps into the backyard. The bag had a small hole, but nothing was hanging out. I almost felt sorry for Rocky (what else would you nickname a raccoon?) for failing at his attempt at an exotic supper.

I knew we had a skunk living on our back forty (forty feet back to the property line, that is), but now I can add a ringtailed beauty to the mix. I imagine that might bother some people, but it actually comforts me to think I have a couple of furry partners keeping an eye on me and mine through the night.