Bandits

For several summers now raccoons have been coming in through our cat door and eating all the Iams they can get their little nimble fingers on. They lick the food bowls clean, wash their food in the water bowls, and occasionally steal powdered sugar, brown sugar, marshmallows or nuts, whatever they can get in the pantry. (Apparently they like to bake cakes.) They come in after 9:30, sometimes in pairs, and once in awhile they share the kitchen with our cats.

After the first raccoon was trapped and euthanized by the city, I decided I would start my own catch and release program. I have since trapped and released three raccoons. Bryon thinks I have captured only one and it keeps coming back, vengeful and hungry. In any case, at all hours of the day and night, in various stages of undress, I have loaded an angry raccoon into my car, driven to the nearby Trinity River and let it go. The first one stayed in the cage, stunned by the daylight. The second one bounded out of sight. The third one moved slowly. When he reached the edge of the woods, he turned around, lifted his tiny hand and gave me the peace sign.

Not really. But that's how I like to remember it.

This photo taken at 9:30 last night.