I don't think Gary's ever had a hobby that lasted over a year, but feeding the animals seems to have stuck.
There are two foxes visiting three times a night now: the unimaginatively named Foxy Fox...
and the more imaginatively named Vincent Fox:
(If you watch carefully it will become obvious that he isn't named after the president of Mexico, but after the artist. I don't know if he lost his ear to guilt over a gambling debt, or gave it to a prostitute.)
A week or so ago I was watching the raccoons while I was looking out the kitchen window. One walked directly toward me, so close to the house that I lost sight of him. I went to the back door to see if he was snuggled by the water faucet and instead, he was six inches from me, looking at me through the French door.
"You don't love us like you love the foxes," he said. With his eyes.