The raccoon buffet has been peaceful since my last post, with no bullying. This morning Number Three and her four kits had gathered at the old bird table before I arrived with their breakfast. The old bird table is falling apart: the stump that the table rests on is rotting away, and the table has a hole in the middle that connects to the hollow trunk below. Three kits were on the table, and as I approached they all tried to go down through the hole, which is only big enough for one kit at a time. Two made it to the ground and ran into the bushes, but the third kit had only just begun to go into the hole when I arrived at the base of the stump. So he stayed exactly where he was, with his front end in the hole and his back end in the air. It looked so funny, I could not help myself, I burst out laughing. I guess I should have backed-off and let the poor little guy escape, but I didn't think of it at the time. I just tipped a cup of peanuts all around his little, quivering, hairy butt and tiptoed away.
