Raccoons? In MY yard? It's more likely than you think!

Tonight was a relatively uneventful evening.  I wandered down to work, discovered I had virtually no gas left, found out that my carefully crafted plans to hang out and figure out specifics later were all for naught, and did not succeed in my attempts to frolic in sprinklers and play on elementary school equipment with a friend.

Only half an hour ago, however, I met Scoundrel the raccoon.  I stepped outside to retrieve my iPod from my car hours after I had come back home as per my routine of forgetfulness, and when I turned to head back inside I saw what looked like some sort of gigantic cat leaping over the bushes in front of me into my front yard.  I dashed (at a leisurely pace, as it was far too late to actually run) around the bushes with hopes of seeing Demon Cat before it escaped, but I was instead met with an unusual sight:  A large raccoon was on the far side of my yard, staring at me.  It stood on its hind legs as if to shrink the height difference, and so I sat down where I was and stared back.  It fell back to all fours and tilted its head at me in a manner that suggested I had intruded on its yard and not vice-versa; hoping not to offend it to the point that it leapt at me and gave me rabies with its devil claws, I hunched over a bit and waved.

Here's where it gets strange, folks.  The raccoon, whom I later dubbed Scoundrel, waved back.  Let me repeat that for emphasis:  Scoundrel the Raccoon waved to me.  I don't know if mirroring behaviors is something raccoons often do or not, but it threw me and I responded by backing away, still sitting down as to avoid devil claw rabies and the like, until I was at my door and then quickly fleeing into the safety of my home.

Other than that little escapade, however, the night has been wholly forgettable and I plan on doing just that.