Just some observations from a few nights ago.

I was late to feed my stepchildren (so named by xocobra).  I normally put food out for the wildlife around 9 PM (CDT, at least).  I forgot on this particular evening.  It was almost 10 PM when I realized my error and corrected it.

The opossum was outside finishing off what few pecans the squirrels had not consumed during the day.  He shifted in my direction as I stepped outside, but then he returned to foraging.  Most opossums are very laid back if you know how to deal with them; it helps when those around here are growing rather accustomed to me.  No sudden movements.  No loud noises.  You know, just take it easy and they really don’t care.  It helps to be separated by a fence.  And to have food to share.

I began tossing apple to the opossum.  That’s their favorite food.  He welcomed it with enthusiasm, so I was able to lure him to within three feet (a meter) of me.

As the opossum munched happily on apple wedges, something else came from around the corner.  It was a raccoon.  More specifically, it was the young smaller raccoon who is rapidly becoming comfortable with my presence, even going so far as to be inside the patio fence with me sans wigging out.  He also has sat atop the fence with me out there talking to him, and he’s now at ease so as to eat without worry or a constant eye on me (the rest of the raccoons continually watch me).

I said something like “Can you two share a dinner table without violence?  Or lapsing into comas?”

The masked marauder came around the corner of the fence and halted.  The opossum had focused his attention to the other fresh nuts and fruit I was tossing out for them.  The two were no more than five feet (1.5 meters) apart.

The opossum turned so as to keep a very close eye on the raccoon.  He continued to eat.

Recovered from the momentary pause received by seeing the opossum, the raccoon began foraging for food as though he was alone.

The opossum ate slower than usual because he kept turning so that he might carefully watch the raccoon.  The raccoon, on the other hand, acted as though the opossum wasn’t there.  He foraged and moved about normally.  This caused the opossum to back himself against the fence so he could eat while closely monitoring the raccoon.

I kept talking in the hopes of keeping them from focusing so much on each other.  I said things like “Be nice.” and “There’s plenty for both of you.” and other such nonsense.  Had I been observed, undoubtedly my blithering mumbles would have landed me in a firmly binding white jacket, housed in a uniquely padded room, and forever subdued by chemical restraints.

Neither cared about what I was saying, or even that I was talking.  I might as well have been speaking to myself.

Er…  Uh…  Never mind.

No more than a foot (30 centimeters) apart, they both ate.  The opossum enjoyed the last few pieces of apple that were within his grasp.  The raccoon vacuumed up everything in his path.

From around the other corner of the building came the sound of voices.  And the footsteps of a four-legged beast.  A dog.

The raccoon turned in that direction and froze.  The opossum kept watching the raccoon.

The voices approached.  The sound of a dog’s collar was mixed in.

Neither animal moved except for the continued munching by the opossum who, mind you, was still only watching the raccoon.  I’ve noticed opossums don’t react to things as I’d expect.  If they don’t feel like they can make an immediate escape and do it safely, they’ll just stop and wait in hopes the danger will pass without noticing them.  If they can escape, they may try, but not always, and certainly not always when one would expect them to do so.  They are a much calmer animal than I’d anticipated.  Raccoons, on the other hand, seem more unpredictable by demonstrating they can be both unhinged and uninterested when least expected.  Just never at the same time.

Two people came around the corner with an average-sized dog in tow.  They were talking while the dog enjoyed trotting alongside them.  Given their location and direction, they would come no closer than about ten yards (9 meters).  In addition, they were on the other side of the bushes which totally hid the animals and me in dark shadows and thick foliage.

Still…

The raccoon totally freaked out and ran like a wild man back around the corner whence he came.  Because of his position when he began his escape, and because he headed immediately to the fence so he could skirt it for protection, he ran right over the opossum.  Literally.

Much to my surprise, the opossum growled fiercely, lunged at the raccoon when it hit him, and made a big rucus to defend his position.  The raccoon, on the other hand, squealed in a wimpy way as the opossum struck.  I would have expected something else entirely, although I understand the raccoon was more worried about the dog than the opossum.

He fled around the corner in utter disgrace, certainly not living up to his species’ reputation as insane beasts hellbent for destruction.  I couldn’t help but giggle.  “Wimp.”

With the raccoon—and therefore, competition—out of the way, the opossum continued with his dinner in peace.