I mentioned in very passing on Monday that we’d had a raccoon visit that Sunday night. No serious damage — one chocolate bar (amongst others) pulled out and nibbled on all over, the bucket o’ cat food opened and upended on the kitchen floor — but no burrowing into the pantry, no chocolatey foot prints over everything.
We’ve been on night time lockdown since then, and, aside from Margie reporting one unsuccessful attempt to breach the blast door (which is right below her side of the bed), we’ve been raccoonless. The cats haven’t seriously minded being inside — as they get a bit more sedentary, and the evenings start to cool off — but I expect we’ll open back up after the weekend.
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