a raccoon in the apartment

Tonight when I got home I noticed the small cat-door that was built into the wall next to the door.

The former occupant of our unit was the owner of the building; by description he seems to have been a wealthy European playboy. Just a tad different from yours truly.

Anyway, he lived with a cat or two, and had not only the door installed into the unit but had a similar door put into the screen window that leads out from the landing between the first floor and ours. Allowing entry to that screen window was a shaky wooden plank crossing from the fence, and a second plank screwed to the fence itself.

When our neighbour told us that raccoons had been known to use the catwalk and had gotten as far as to open the fridge, I took down the catwalk.

Then tonight, upon hearing Kenny's voice just inside the cat door, I had the idea of playing a little trick on the family. I started 'pawing' at the cat door and may what I hope were reasonable raccoon noises by sucking air through my teeth. It worked. In no time I could hear Mari and Kenny hovering around the cat door and talking to each other in worried Japanese.

Deciding enough was enough, I stood and entered the apartment to find Mari just reaching to lock the door. Everyone exclaimed when I appeared.

Ah, the simple things that entertain the aging mind.

P.S. Happy fortieth birthday, Arnon. We were just ten when we met.