This little bandit is a racoon. Cute, isn't he? Human-like hands and brain, a rural raccoon can transform a rat population from petulance to minimal.
But the urban-raised racoons are different. They learn to associate food with humans, they take great delight in eating human leftovers and those so-much-easier-to-catch-than-rats that coinhabit the human domicile (cats, dogs, and other small pets). These fellas are shown what a trap is and how it works, then are discharged in more picturesque locations, like a farm, with a taste for food that smells of humans. Most of these released animals fail to adapt outside the city, but a few thrive in their new surroundings by chasing out the ratters.
20 minutes after shuteye, a noise. Look out the window. One henhouse smashed open, chickens fluttering in pain and panic in the moonlight. Much hunting for hens. By now, it's 5 am. I administer first-aid and set up hospitals for the survivors, matching them together by wound severity and friendship. Depression will kill a chook faster than bloodloss so the right companionship is vital to recovery.
Showered, got ready to go to the human hospital for a whole different kettle of stress. Discovered cold brew coffee... caffeine is my friend today.
(Egg and Zuse - who my blip friends have yet to meet - are fine and are given a crash course in how to be nice to the less complete.)
I'm also a bit cheesed off at myself because I tried to get the focus on the eyes but failed. I must have moved the camera a smidge.