personal. I cracked the door back open, peeked out through sleepy eyes, when I saw a black mass standing 3 feet away on the banister surrounding our back porch. I closed the door again as I tried to will my brain to wake up. I peeked back out and tried to ascertain whether the black mass was a cat or something more sinister. I decided that if the black mass was a cat, then it had spent entirely too much time drinking whiskey and smoking too many cigarettes. Riley was all riled up and throwing such a hissie fit she couldn't (or wouldn't) hear me demand that she back away from the very pissed Raccoon. Sailor (English Mastiff) was more than happy to stand behind me in the kitchen as I yelled at Riley. The raccoon was too close for me to attempt to walk out on the porch to drag her in. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of pleading, Riley ran back in the house, huffing and puffing like she had single handedly put the hurt on an army of giants. I put everyone back in bed and decide it's way too early to be up in the first place so I go back to bed. Later in the morning when I told my husband about our early morning adventure, I could almost see his lip quiver as he bit back the words.... "I told you it wasn't a good idea to start feeding the raccoon."