Critter watching of another sort

There are daytime critters who share our land, and then there are the nighttime ones, the stealthy sort who creep -- or boldly strut -- onto the lighted front porch in quest of cat food.

And they chow down, even when we rattle the door a little from the inside. Chomp.

The night critters -- possums and raccoons, in addition to the occasional stray cat -- seem to be more bold, more "yeah, so?"

Last night, there were TWO big, fat raccoons sharing the dish. They weren't dipping with their paws; they had muzzles right down in the dish and were enjoying a cozy cat food dinner.

I banged hard on the door and charged out, hollering and barking, and those big furry butts fled the porch in a hurry, with one going straight and the other right. I tried to follow them with the flashlight, but there was no further sign of either. (I suspect they were quietly chortling at the weird barking lady.)

One of them has been a frequent visitor, although he's been considerably more cautious lately. We've tried, unsuccessfully, to bag him for months. First we tried Tony sneaking out the side door and waiting with the shotgun in hopes that he'd come that way, while I charged out of the front door. He went left, running right by Tony -- unscathed--for several attempts, and then started escaping to the right, towards the motor home. Or he'd run straight, towards the well and the propane tank. Not good things to have in the line of fire.

Tony's gone so far as to position the cat food away from from the porch and wait in the truck, windows down, gun ready -- always without even a sighting.

Lately we've quietly positioned ourselves at the front door when we've spotted one, with me carefully easing the handle down and then jerking the door wide open while Tony rushes out with the shotgun and fires. We think he might have been nicked with a pellet recently, because until last night, he hadn't returned. Maybe he thinks there's safety in numbers? Or he just hasn't told his buddy coon about the stoopid humans in the house who interrupt dinner.

We had possums before we had raccoons, vicious, spitting hairless ratty things who would gorge themselves at the dish. They're slower, however, and not as smart, and we ended raids by two of 'em without wasting a bunch of shells first. Until last night, they've not been back. When I flipped on the light in the back to bring in the little dish of food, I saw a gray, ratty tail disappear around the corner, and thought it looked like a possum -- but our poor little Hermione kitty also has a gray tail, and I've hacked at her fur for weeks, trying to get all the burrs out (she's long haired, and a burr magnet), so I thought it *could* have been her.

Nope. Tonight it was back, on the front porch this time, eating heartily without any sign of caution. Without being especially quiet about it, Tony got the gun, I jerked the door open, and BOOM he was down. It took two more shots before he was dead -- and it's not that Tony is a bad shot.

Shooting anything is so not me. I've never shot a gun and I cry at "Bambi." But these marauders are messing with my cats, and I know they can hurt or kill a cat. We bring the cat food in at night, and always turn the light on the porch when it gets dark -- and these critters come right on up anyway. I watched Weasley charge the raccoon once, and big as he is, he's much smaller than the coon.

So we defend our home and outdoor kitties against these critters. As long as they stay in the woods, they're safe, and I don't mind sharing. But when they come into my domain, threatening my cats, I mind. Guess it's not much different from the state of the world, hm.