I heard snuffling in the yard while I lay in bed last night trying to fall asleep. I thought it was someone crying or a sprinkler head failing to water somebody's lawn because it was clogged with dirt. I finally got out of bed and looked out the open window. I saw a dark shadow on the green lawn. Another bulk was crouched on the patio. I walked into the office whose window looked directly out on the patio, but the shapes were still blobs. I went downstairs and peered out the back patio door. They were definitely critters, but it was a moonless night and I couldn't make out anything except a dark body about the size of a large cat with a long tail held low to the ground. And it seemed that there were several shapes clustered on the lawn. I was a little spooked. Here I was, the only one up and observing strange creatures on our back lawn. Admittedly, I was a bit groggy with the beginnings of sleep, but I couldn't imagine what kind of mammal would be out foraging in our bag yard in the middle of suburbia at 11:00 at night.
Hesitantly, I turned on the patio light. Several masked faces looked up at me from the center of the lawn under the bird feeders and froze. Raccoons? But we don't have any raccoons in our neighborhood. I opened the sliding glass door and peered out. The shapes now scattered to the edges of the lawn and watched me. I watched them back. “What are you guys?” I asked the little burglars. They didn’t leave, just stared at me. Suddenly, I knew. Definitely raccoons! I hastily closed and locked the patio door thinking I really didn’t want them in my house. Despite the fact that I didn't turn the light off, the raccoons all scurried back to the feeder as if nothing had happened and started chomping away at something. Had they found a dead bird they were feasting on? Weren’t raccoons vegetarians, or did they scavenge anything? I got my binoculars, hoping to get a better glimpse at what they were doing. I could see their little white and black faces better, but still couldn’t see what they were swarming around. What I did see was that there were about five of them. Then a sixth one, the largest by far, marched over from under the amur maples on the west side of the yard. He sniffed the group, then boldly came up to the patio and munched on the seed I had spilled yesterday when I filled the bird feeders. Ah! They were all munching seed. There was always a big pile under the bird feeders.
I hoped to see the beasts eat with their “hands,” which is one of the most fascinating aspects of raccoons, but they just stuck their faces in the seed and ate like cats. The big male raccoon (as I had come to decide he was) peeled away from the yard, followed, one by one, by each of the others. I had mixed feelings of relief and consternation as they vanished westward. Perhaps seeking another unattended bird feeder? I was excited to have another wild critter in my yard to watch, not having seen a coyote in the neighborhood although I occasionally heard them at night, and only rarely seeing a red fox in the surrounding fields at dusk. The coyotes were known to go after domesticated ducks, but the raccoons probably wouldn't pick a fight. They were smaller than most dogs and only a little bigger than most cats. But what about the dog barking in the distance? How smart is he? And the neighborhood cat that prowls into the wee hours of the morning? Right now it was my secret, but it impacted the neighborhood. It might be the first sighting of a raccoon. I wanted to protect them, but I realized that it was a complicated matter. Were they here before we were, or did they follow us to suburbia? Either way, we had to share the terrain. I hoped everyone would take care, but let the poor critters enjoy their new neighborhood.
Posted by ellen at July 28, 2007 03:02 PM