We leave food out for the stray cats, and a mother raccoon and her babies have found it. This delights me. Tonight, I walked up the driveway, and found them eating. The babies scrambled into the ravine by our house. The mother fled somewhere else. I squatted by the dish. On a whim, I made the universal, kiss-sounding pet call. One, two, three, four baby raccoons gamboled from the ravine. They galumphed up to me, and set into their food. They looked at me. I froze. I swear, one of them said, “sh!t.” And they fled.
(Originally posted July 20, 2013)