At 3am my mom was standing in my bedroom doorway. She said something about a racoon, so Bubbs got up to help her.
Turns out she woke up to her cats freaking out, saw a raccoon in the kitchen eating their food, and chased it out with a can of hairspray (say what?).
She locked the cat door from the inside and locked the raccoon in the "lightwell" (the area between houses in San Francisco with an extra set of steps from the top floor down to the ground level).
Animal control came the next day to release the raccoon back into our backyard (we would have prefered to have him released further away, but apparently that is a felony).
Anyway - the next night she wasn't home. Her cats came to our door crying, so I sent Bubbs up to see what was going on.
He was up there for way too long so I followed him up and he had me look outside. The racoon that had just been chased out of the house (Bubbs found him back inside eating the cat food) was snuggled up on the door mat outside the house. We were standing in the window, at one point T was banging on it and meowing at the "kitty." Dude just kept sleeping, curled up, and hung out.
We've started locking the cat door every night and the cats are just going to have to stay in.
Poor T thought we got him a new kitty.
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