Critters in the Attic

Actually he's just in the space between the ceiling and the roof in the utility room, which was a later addition to the house. I've walked around outside trying to spot an opening in the eaves, but can't see one large enough to admit Dave. Nonetheless, he's definitely up there.

You can hear him scrabbling about, directly above me as I fold laundry out of the dryer. Bingo's perched next to me on the washing machine, staring crazily at the ceiling, his ears and tail twitching. He doesn't know it's Dave making all those tantalizing noises. Dave would kick his ass.

I like the purposeful sound of Dave's movements. I can just imagine him following the same Sunday morning routine I'm going about myself: putting away raccoon dishes, folding raccoon laundry, having a nice cup of raccoon coffee, casually glancing over the Raccoon Yahoo! headlines, perhaps checking up on his friends' raccoon blogs to see what everybody's up to this weekend. Of course, this would mean he's stealing our wi-fi; but what do you expect? He is a raccoon.

I've gotten kind of attached to Dave. I hope he's warm enough up there.