It's 5:30AM here and I was about to chuck it in for the night when I heard a noise outside. It was a racoon beating up a cat. The racoon looked pretty young, probably one of the six racoons that was born up in our attic a few years ago. Too bad I didn't see them when they were babies. When I first saw them they were already lanky and ugly. I like the way adult racoons look though. But then that's how I got bitten by the mother racoon. Nasty gal. After all those peanut butter cookies I gave her. I would give her two and she would take one in her mouth, take the other one in her hands, and casually walk away standing up. Hillarious.
I did that only because she broke her nails trying to get back into the attic when we blocked the entrance (we didn't know about the babies until they started crying) and I felt sorry. One day I was cursing about the racoon making noise in the attic and the next day at 4AM I was on the roof (it was raining too) with a crowbar and hammer to make holes so the mother racoon could get back in. Oy. I had this horror image of dead baby racoons in the attic. Anyway, I am not feeding her any more so don't bother leaving tsk tsk comments.