Three nights ago, I had a dream my car was stolen. I woke up in the middle of the night, looked out the bedroom window and after seeing my car where I left it, fell back to sleep. In retrospect, something must have woke me up - and in the morning we discovered the garbage can was over turned and its contents picked through by some sort of animal.
Then two nights ago, a LOUD bang! and there was an enormous bear (the size of a PT Cruiser!) riffling through our stinky garbage. After yelling and screaming, it sauntered up the street, garbage bag in its mouth, ready to dine on a picnic basket. Apparently Yogi hit several dining establishments in Manitou that same night.
Then last night? I hear something fall off the pantry shelf at 2:30am. I go downstairs, a little spooked about the whole bear incident, only to see a bag of corn kernels had fallen from the shelf and busted open on the floor. I used the bathroom, and went back upstairs to try and fall asleep. A few minutes later, another crash sounded.
What was that?
Makiah, here girl! And she comes groggily out from the closet. Some watchdog she is!
Looking around for a weapon of some sort to confront what ever is downstairs.... and the best thing I could come up with is a toilet plunger. We turned on the lights - hollering and making as much noise as possible. And whatever had climbed into the house through the dog doors, climbed back out them. Time to close that point of entry!
Although we didn't see it - my guess is that we had a late night visit from some coons, of the raccoon variety. They left a distinct red-rock paw print on the bathroom sill downstairs.
And poor Makiah was blamed for their visit last week. I knew something was up when they got into the cranberries. Makiah's a chicken skin lover, all the way! Cranberries? Only if she was starving. Poor little dog took the rap for some pesky critters!