I have a couple strange neighbors. They wander through my yard and dig at the plants, and one of ‘em was even scratching his ass on the cedar tree!
I didn’t get a pic of the cedar tree scritchin’ action (I was too busy staring in disbelief), but here’s one of them poking around the bird seed that was spilled by squirrels.
Yes, that’s my back yard, yes, that’s my lawn. Ya gotta prollem with it?
The amazing part is how they completely don’t care that there’s a potential predator opening the window to take a picture. I can only assume that this guy lives down by the retaining-pond-turned-city-park at the bottom of the hill.
They run up and down the street sometimes, too, in the middle of the night. Like kids out past midnight raising a ruckus simply because they can. They have a strange cry they emit to each other, and run around some more. And more than once I’ve been awakened by the sound of something in the flowerbed under my window, something making a more sociable sound, a quiet and reassuring nasal croak. The raccoon equivalent of mumbling to yourself, or to someone else, while doing something as menial as digging up plants.
