“I’m concerned about Lilly. I think she might be retarded,” said my neighbor, who I affectionately call the ‘humane society’. I laughed on the inside, as with all seriousness, she continued to tell me stories of the problems she’d had with raccoons and how Lilly, her cat, nearly got herself killed more than twice. Part of the problem, I think, is that her cat door is really a dog door, and raccoons seem to have no qualms about inviting themselves into her kitchen.
She described a story of how she caught (and by caught, I mean saw a raccoon lounging on her sofa in a smoking jacket) a couple of raccoons in her kitchen trying to heave the bag of cat food out through the dog door. Smart guys with thumbs can be a nuisance. A few weeks ago, she caught an old raccoon in her kitchen, and in an effort to shew him out of the house, she somehow locked him inside; then left to go on a walk. And she’s concerned that her cat’s retarded?