Updated November 8, 2016.
Raccoons and cats can lead to some pretty intriguing encounters. Let me tell you about one.
I love sunbathing!
Every day at about 3:30 p.m. I creep to the back slider door and stretch out on the soft carpet in a patch of bright sunshine streaming through the window.
For me, it is kitty loaf time, baking in the hot rays until my fur sizzles, and turning, like a cat roast on a barbecue spit, until all sides, down to my cute pink toes, are toasted Tortie caramel.
Sometimes on hot summer days, I’ll sunbathe outside where I can watch the bugs, bunnies and Dodger; he’s so entertaining.
Today, I couldn’t resist soaking up the rays outside. I slunk out the door and dragged my body across the grass until I found the perfect camouflage, and then I stretched out as far as I could go . . . long and lean. The heat felt so good!
I basked in the sunshine for my usual two hours before my curiosity got the best of me.
To satisfy it, I scouted out all my usual haunts, under and around the cabin on the back forty, every nook and cranny of the island garden and pond, and my favorite outdoor nest behind an old growth cedar tree just off the corner of the main house; it’s where I hide and nap under a canopy of Lilac shrubbery.
I was just settling in for a short catnap before supper.
Suddenly, my fur stood on end and my ears laid back. Warning bells clanged off in my head.
Sounds and scent of intrusion enveloped me . . . and it wasn’t Dodger!
Silently, I slithered to where I could peer toward the pond area of the island garden through cracks in the garden fence boards.
I couldn’t believe my eyes!
There, in broad daylight, that pesky raccoon emerged from the shadows of tall ferns, rooted at the base of majestic Grand Firs, and silently slipped into the mirrored pond.
This was getting interesting.
I sat up to watch. I love doing things in secret; so this was fun.
I’ve never seen a raccoon take a bath before. They kind of swim around and . . .
. . . wait a minute!
My eyes narrowed into slits. “Suspicious” sensations skittered across my skin.
Whatever that raccoon was doing, it wasn’t bathing or swimming.
He looked like he was fishing!
I heard somewhere that raccoons liked to fish in Koi ponds, but we have no Koi or other scaly creatures in our pond.
Abruptly, he changed tactics and frantically stirred up the water, churning up stones and rocks from the bottom.
What was he doing?!
Could he be playing in the bubbles from the solar powered aerator the lady of the castle had installed a few days ago, her organic gardening solution for vector and algae control?
That must be it!
Playing in the bubbles is an enticing idea, even to me, a feline who abhors water.
My fur smoothed and I sat up. Raccoons and cats are comical beasts; I think raccoons more so (by the way, I don't consider myself a beast).
Just as I began to relax and watch the show, I jumped, startled as the raccoon flipped something silvery out of the water.
Then, he fished out a blue ball and bounced it around.
Wait a minute . . .
. . . I did a double-take.
Something wasn’t right!
That blue ball was attached to the silvery snaky thing.
My eyes bugged out at the realization. That masked marauder was sabotaging the solar powered aerator, eradicating it from the pond.
The lady of the castle, with a big broom in hand, flew out of the house and chased the raccoon up a tree, the one neighboring the cedar tree under which rests my napping nest.
Now, I know where he lives . . . too close!
My face settled into grim lines as I stalked back to the house where the lady let me inside.
Some days I understand what “Grumpy Cat” feels like.
“Raccoons are such a nuisance”, I growled to myself.