Tikkabik

So we have this raccoon who is obsessed with our trash cans. Every night -- EVERY NIGHT -- has knocks one of the cans over and struggles with it until he gets the lid off.

The other night I chased him off into the woods. I heard him rustling around out there and threw the light on, then opened the door and went outside, to see him loping off into the back yard. That didn't dissuade him, however, because after I went to bed, he was back.

He's a crafty little bastard. Our trash cans are plastic, but they use locking lids that turn 90 degrees. What's more, indentations in the lids snap the handle into place, so it's double-locked. But somehow, he figures a way through this apparatus and into the wonders beyond.

And it isn't just that he just helps himself to a few rotting trifles, either. The furry bandit has to have a veritable frat party with my trash, spreading it around the porch in a frenzied mess. Cleaning it up the next day is usually a misery, because bits and pieces get stuck between the slats of the porch timbers.

Last night he outsmarted himself. He tipped over one of the barrels and then dragged it a bit, and got as far as the porch's railing before he realized that he'd wedged the barrel top-first into the railing. So while he knocked it over again, he wasn't able to get inside.