A raccoon just walked through my backyard, across the deck, and then (I think) climbed the fence into the next yard. I've seen bigger ones. Once I saw two walking down a side street in Oakland's Rockridge neighborhood at sunset, pear-shaped, unrushed, as if they were out for their evening constitutional, or heading home from one of the restaurants on College Avenue. Which they may have been, come to think of it. Those two could have taken a sizable dog and won. This one was smaller, but not exactly skinny.
Readers who know the Tenderloin will understand how weird this is. I am four blocks from one of San Francisco's major arteries; there's very little open land around here, and I'm essentially downtown.
I put out an overripe plum, in case it comes back through. I want to see if they really touch their food all over, before they eat it; the behavior that gave rise to the idea that they wash their food.
