Catfood Burglar

I opened the kitchen door leading out into the garage, this morning, only to be met, face to face, by a fat raccoon.  I'd put some food on a counter by the door for the cat, earlier.  Mr. Raccoon was now enjoying it a few inches from my nose on the counter he had somehow mounted.

Opening the door didn't frighten him.  He just looked up, with his masked face, and kept eating.  I asked him what he was doing and he seemed to determine something was amiss, diving, awkwardly, off the counter to the concrete garage floor.  He landed, all sprawled out, with a painful sounding smack.  He was very fat, though, and the fat seemed to absorb the shock as he quickly recovered and waddled off, less frightened than annoyed.

I questioned him about his daily exercise regimen, and perhaps his need to alter it.  I also asked him if he thought his mask would protect his identity.  He didn't seem too interested in conversation, though, or in making a new friend.  I guess beggars really can be choosers.