Updated December 23, 2016.
Do raccoons eat cats? I didn't know much about this until my first encounter with one. Let me tell you my story . . .
The moon is waxing and I couldn't sleep the night through.
Sounds rustle through the restless forest . . . restless, like I am.
I slide out of bed and sneak up to the back slider window to watch the wildlife creep by in the moonlight.
They’re very clever, these creatures of the night. They think I don’t see them as they skulk in the shadows, but their eyes glow and blink.
I’m as wild as they are . . . at least I pretend to be. While I love my indoor kitty comforts, I also love playing at being a wild cat.
If I had my choice I’d be a forest cat, a cougar lurking above its unsuspecting prey.
My tail switches and my whispers twitch.
The masked bandit has returned!
I don’t know what that animal is.
It’s too big to be a house cat, but it’s nimble like one, because it can climb trees really well.
It’s a naughty animal, always causing a ruckus with the neighbor’s chickens and stealing their eggs.
Then, there’s that Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) thing . . . night after night, always washing its food and paws in our garden pond. What is with that anyway?!
Normally, I enjoy just watching and pretending I’m out there in the wild, but this morning . . . .
. . . . The woman of the house gets up before dawn to start her day. I beg to go outside. Usually, she turns on the outside light and checks out the yard to be sure it safe for me to go outside, but she forgot to do that this morning.
When she slid open the door, I was so excited I forgot to do my own safety check.
I shot out the door like rocket!
“Raccoon!” The woman of the house exclaimed loudly.
Two feet out it felt like I hit a stone wall! My instincts had kicked in and caught me mid-air as I cannon-balled off the porch stoop.
I dropped to the ground, hard, but didn’t feel a thing as I scrambled to get my running legs under me and dart back inside the castle.
That masked bandit stood in a shadow, about six feet from the back door. He waved both paws, winked and grinned, inviting me to come back out and play.
I did a quick about face and raced for the back door, but the woman of the house slid it shut before I could shoot through.
“So sorry, Abby,” she said. “That raccoon will eat you alive! Let’s wait a bit until it decides to move on.”
I was disappointed, but relieved, all at the same time.
While I like to pretend to be wild, deep down I’m just a fun-loving kitty who likes to cuddle up close most of the time, and to play at both ends of the day.
I did go outside a while later. I pretended I was a masked bandit, without OCD, because I don’t like pond water!
Do raccoons eat cats? I wondered.