For many years, we rarely glimpsed a raccoon in our immediate area.  I wrote about young Kiko’s only encounter with a raccoon inside his fenced domain back in 2013.  During our Covid home confinement in 2020, we began to notice them more often, and they provided much-needed entertainment.  They were the ideal visitors for that era: always masked, always outside.  Our family would gather eagerly at the windows to watch these unexpectedly agile athletes perform acrobatic feats.  They persisted, and persisted, and managed, somehow, to feast on seed from the hanging feeders.  These days, raccoons are ever-present. 

This winter, a pair of small, absolutely adorable raccoons began appearing regularly as dusk approached.  We’d see them working patiently, using their delicate, long-fingered hands to comb the ground for sunflower seeds beneath the feeders.   I’d learned that it’s an easy task for a raccoon to remove a feeder from its hook, so I’d started securing them to the branches with carabiners.   For a while they seemed to work.  But raccoons clearly persevere.  I’d awaken to find both feeders on the ground, their components scattered across a wide area, the seed long gone.  Now I remove the feeders at night, after the last of the late-feeding cardinals has retired.  A slight delay, though, and I’ll find a feeder already on the ground.  These little guys work quickly now that they’ve mastered the carabiner.  

Once they realized that the feeders disappear after dark, the raccoons are more likely to show up during the day. Early morning, mid-day, late afternoon, whenever. Hearing a louder than expected rustling in the weeds one recent day, I watched as a raccoon vigorously dragged a feeder toward a more private dining spot, behind the garage. And I know, from the gifts they leave, that they check for the feeders every night. I still think the raccoons are very cute. But I wouldn’t object strenuously to fewer visits from these furry friends.