Note to self...

The automatic cat feeder on the front porch is sturdy enough to survive an assault by a raccoon, but not so heavy that he can’t drag it six feet across the porch and give it the old college try. I was wondering what the hell was going on out there in the wee hours this morning, and a quick check of the Arlo cameras cleared it up.

I already knew not to let it dispense food at night, since I caught a pair of possums on video a while back, but I didn’t know we had raccoons in the neighborhood as well. I’ll have to scoot the heavy bench over to wedge the feeder into the corner more firmly.

In related news, Whitefoot has claimed the cat bed on the bench, relegating Scrawny to her old chair cushions. The coup must have been recent, since she was using it last week. I think I upset the balance when I threw away the bench cushion that somebody used to register their dislike of the turkey flavor wet food.

Also, they’ve pretty much forgiven me for leaving them with only the dry food while I was in Chicago for Christmas; Scrawny actually purrs while she’s getting her morning skritches, and will delay eating until she’s had enough affection.

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