In July 2019, I took photos of a sweet mama raccoon on our front deck in the rain, eating the peanuts for the squirrels that I would hide behind the shovel so the blue jays -- greedy buggers -- wouldn't get them.
I suspect that sweet mama is the raccoon that was hit by a car out front of our place, and I suspect these cuties, who are young, are her babies born in the spring.
Mother feeds the finches and the squirrels on her balcony all summer (I know, I know) but once the blue jays returned, she had to put the squirrel platter under an inverted basket with holes cut out.
We call it "The Squirrel Cafe". Seriously. It's a thing.
So these cuties climb up onto Mother's balcony every evening to raid the cafe (and freak out our three cats). They are not all that afraid of us; in fact, when I opened the sliding door to take a photo, the one of the left started to walk to the door -- as if I was inviting it in!
I might have been raised on "Frosty the Raccoon" but even I know better than to try and make a pet out of a raccoon. At least one I didn't rescue as a day-old baby... because those capable little hands...
Note: If Mother starts to keep her door closed, and refuses to let the cats and dog into her room, I'll KNOW she's brought those two little cuties in for the winter!
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