As you know, I’ve been feeding Chira, my new stray feline friend, for a few weeks.  This began with me putting food down outside of my patio fence where the cat felt safe enough to eat in peace.  With the fence separating us, I could easily sit and talk while he munched his food, and a strategically placed hand through the fence eventually was welcomed as a personal rubbing post.  I used this approach for some time to ensure we were accustomed to each other and comfortable with close proximity.

I generally took small handfuls of food out throughout the day so I did not leave a pile of it overnight.  Despite this, there were times when some food remained once Chira had gone off to wherever it is that he sleeps.  I was quite aware each morning that any food from the previous night would be gone, consumed no doubt by any number of wild beasts which inhabit this area.

One evening after the sun had fallen well below the horizon and night was settled in comfortably across the land, I stood on the patio enjoying the cool temperature and chilled breeze when only a few feet away from me I heard the telltale signs of consumption: crunch… crunch… crunch… crunch…  I knew well that it could not be a cat because too much chewing was taking place.  Not wanting to scare away whatever it was that was finishing off the cat food, I turned very slowly so as not to alarm anyone or anything.  There hidden below the bushes was an enormous opossum enjoying the last vestiges of Chira’s meal.  Because possums have such terrible eyesight, I knew the creature could not see me, so I finished my slow rotation in its direction and immediately began another slow movement to lower myself to a crouching position.  This would afford me a better and closer look.

Not once did the opossum hesitate or react to me.  It was unlikely it could see me that well, if at all, and they are generally a sedate creature anyway.  The lower I got, the better view I had, and finally I was on a level that gave me a fantastic lateral vision of this enormous momma possum who was clearly nearing the birth of her offspring.  Her belly hung low and near the ground, or should I say nearer the ground since opossums are not tall animals to begin with.  She consumed the remainder of the cat food with exaggerated crunching, never once looking at me, and once the meal was done she walked deliberately away toward the creek, her belly jiggling with each step as though it were ready to burst open and spill her children out into the world.

Ah, so I’d discovered my cat food thief.  I was not surprised as opossums are quite numerous here.  With the knowledge of who was eating the leftovers at night, I decided to move the food inside the patio fence in the hopes of offering it a bit more protection from midnight marauders.  I took it upon myself to work with Chira so he understood the food was now available once he came over the fence.  I’m still working on this as he’s uncertain about eating there (although he’s nibbled a bit from time to time and appears to understand more that he needs to come onto the patio for food).

Just in case he came back at night while I was asleep, I left the food on the patio with a bowl of fresh water.  The first night this happened was Monday of this week.  Tuesday morning when I awoke, I stepped out to the patio in the dark of early morning to find that both bowls were empty — completely empty, in fact.  I carried them inside to give them a wash and to refill them, and only then did I realize the food bowl had been licked clean.  How unusual, I thought, and certainly not a feline act.  I was quite certain once again that I was feeding another animal, but this time it was something capable of crossing the fence barrier, a feat no opossum could manage.  During the day, I also noticed that Chira could smell something on the food bowl that made him leery of eating from it.  Eventually I was forced to get another bowl and to make a small pile on the concrete to entice him to a meal, and I also began to understand that whatever had eaten the food left a scent that made Chira uneasy.

Well, I had no intention of staying up all night to try and figure out who was eating the food, but I did leave the bowl on the patio again and went to sleep with a mental note to be aware during the night and to awake at the first sign of activity.  Shortly before 5 AM this morning, the alarms went off as a commotion on the patio drew me from sleep.  I immediately sat up in bed and looked out the windows that face the patio, but in the dark of early morning I could only make out a large shape sitting next to the place where the food and water had been left.  But wait…  There was more than one large shape out there.  In fact, there were at least half a dozen of them moving about the patio and scouring it for every last consumable tidbit.  Even The Kids were awake and demonstrating keen interest in all the activity taking place outside.

I slowly rolled out of bed and crawled to the window where I might have a better view.  Immediately upon such closer inspection, I realized it was a horde of raccoons.  They were scaling the fence in both directions, rummaging about the patio hunting down every last piece of food, and despite spilling a good portion of it, they were even taking drinks out of the water bowl.  They were large beasts indeed, much larger than any of The Kids, and they darted about and talked to one another in a coordinated attack on the food stores they’d discovered.  While I knelt on the floor by the window and watched them, two eventually came right to the window and sat face to face with me, their masked bandit faces only inches from mine.  In the meantime, a momentary scuffle broke out at the food dish as it was pushed about in a frenzy of licking meant to ensure no crumbs had been inadvertently left behind.  The Kids, of course, were quite fascinated by all of this and watched intently as these alien interlopers busied themselves and enjoyed the early morning privacy.  My two observers, now distracted from their curious peering at the silly human in the window, turned and rumbled back across the patio to investigate the activity.

With both bowls empty and the patio completely scrutinized and explored, the raccoons began scaling the fence again, an act performed with such ease and grace that I wondered how I ever doubted they could find or get to the cat food.  Up and over the top of the fence, they just as easily walked down the other side as though it were a ramp at an angle rather than a wooden fence sitting completely vertical.  I was amazed at the agility and speed with which they came and went.  The fence was nothing more than a momentary obstacle to them, but it certainly was in no way a hindrance.  Once on the other side, there was a bit of indecision as they hurried back and forth, first in this direction then the other, until finally they coordinated their movement and headed off toward the creek.  With all of them out of sight, I decided I might as well get my day started.

And now I’d identified my overnight outlaws both inside and outside the patio fence.  I realized there was no place to leave food outside that would be safe from hungry wildlife looking for an easy meal.  From now on, I’ll have to bring the bowls inside or, as I told Jenny this morning, I’ll start going through a lot more cat food than I do with four felines inside and at least one outside.  It’s not that I mind feeding the opossums, raccoons, birds, squirrels, armadillos, and whatever else might locate this apparent smorgasbord, and truthfully I rather enjoy getting the up close and personal interaction with these creatures, but I’d prefer not to go through expensive prescription cat food like oxygen.