About five years ago Mrs., and I were watching late night TV, and heard the dogs going crazy barking in the back.
We jumped up, and ran to the back to see what might be causing all the ruckus. Couldn’t see anything out there, but the dogs kept barking.
Grabbed a flashlight, and shined it on the pine tree on the hill in the back to see ten eyeballs looking back at me. Five Raccoons clinging to the tree trunk staring at the flashlight.
Told the dogs to shut up, and went back to our TV show.
Somehow I just knew your story was going in the raccoon direction—as opposed to the tiger direction.
I’d gone backpacking on the Appalachian Trail. It started raining near dusk, and on one side of the trail I found some really nice A-frames that had been set up. They were raised up from the ground; perfect!
I hauled my backpack up onto the floor, had dinner and camped down for the night.
Round about midnight, I heard rustling under the floor of the A-frame. I was afraid it was a bear! Peeking over the edge of the floor, I shined my flashlight and was met by two beady eyes and the tell-tale mask face. A raccoon. He looked up at me as if to say “Whadda YOU want?” and sauntered away.
The next morning I saw what he’d been after: the prior residents had left some food on the ground.