Comfortable

Have I mentioned the family of raccoons who visit the backyard here most nights? There are five of them, all born during the past several months. We used to see them trailing along after their mother, but there's been no sight of her for weeks. (It may not be all that unusual for the young raccoons to be on their own at this age, but I wonder if she wasn't injured or killed.) So as is often the case, I worry a bit, and I feel obligated. I've been leaving a small amount of dry cat food for them out back on the deck most nights.

For better or worse, they seem to have become increasingly accustomed to me. Last night, they happened to be under the deck waiting, and as soon as I stepped foot outside, three of the five spilled out from under the deck and came to see what I had. Two scurried about my feet, while another stood up on hind legs trying to get at the bag of cat food.

After eating, they often climb into the small fountain to drink (and cool off), relax and groom themselves on the chair cushions, and chase each other around the deck. (All but the smallest, who doesn't seem to appreciate being pounced on somewhat larger siblings, even in good fun.) In about an hour they're off on another adventure, and all is quiet.

At times I wonder if this is a good thing, to allow them to become so comfortable with me. But we've been watching raccoons since just about the day (or rather the night) we moved in — they're invariably curious, and that curiosity often extends to humans, as well, if you don't frighten them off. And raccoons are one of the few animals able to acclimate themselves to life in the wild after living as pets — although I'm giving them food, these raccoons are far, far from domesticated.