A few nights ago, Gary was posting political screeds on his iPad at 2:30 in the morning, as is his wont, when he heard raccoons shrieking and chattering right outside the bedroom window. He checked and yes, the poor babies has eaten all the food he'd given them. Like a good raccoon slave he was out there three minutes later, piling up more chow into the Cone of Food he thinks all animals prefer.
I argued how unfair it is that he is raccoon-whipped yet I can't get him to do anything. He tried to convince me that when he feeds the wildlife the animals grow devoted to both of us. "Soon the birds will be dressing you and doing your hair," he claimed.
"So it's like we're Mr and Mrs. Assisi."
"You know it," he said.
I'd say he's anthropomorphizing the animals, but then I see videos from our backyard like this one. That raccoon has been watching Gary watch TV. They have all the same mannerisms. You could put a remote in that raccoon's hand and a La-Z-Boy under his butt and you'd have my husband.