CATEGORY: MRS. ANDERSON
PHOTO: TEEN RACCOONS

Our living space was on the top floor of a two story duplex with a six foot square front porch and stairs going down to a platform at the end of a footbridge that crossed a ravine from the street.  We liked to feed the cats on the porch, it being protected by a roof.  We also kept their cat baskets there.

One evening I heard a noise on the porch.  Looking out I saw five small, almost baby sized, raccoons busily scarfing down the cat food.  They were all the same size; their bodies about ten inches long.  I got the broom and opened the door.  All of them fled except one.  He (I assumed it was a “he” because, as you will see, he was the testosterone test tube kid) turned to face me growling.  He was actually GROWLING!  It was so funny, like a kitten growling at a Great Dane!  I gently pushed him with the broom until, still facing me and growling all the way, he backed over the edge of the top step.  His little butt hit the step below at the same time his chin hit the edge of the porch.  WhapWhap!  “GR-R-R-ARRAH!!!!!” he screamed at me!  I pushed him again.  The same thing happened in exactly the same way.  His butt hit the step below at the exact time his chin hit the step above.  Another auditory explosion!  This happened all the way down the stairs on each step–all fifteen of them.  Still, he defiantly faced me.  Still he growled.  I continued to push him out onto the bridge, and across it.  Finally, toward the far end, he turned and ran.

After that we started feeding the cats in the house.