I admit to being lazy. Instead of taking out my trash right away, I put two or three bags on a cart outside the door before rolling them off to the dumpster. I live in a back corner apartment with a large section of bushes hiding my porch from view, so it doesn't create an eyesore for my neighbors and there's no reason for anyone to walk by due to its isolated location. I really enjoy my privacy.
Lately, however, I've woken up to scratching noises. My bedroom is downstairs and the head of my bed is right by the window that faces the front door. I hear a scratching sound, roll over, look at my clock, and see that its 4-5am.
"What the hell? Maintenance can't be outside at this hour."
I look out and see a furry thing gnawing at my trash bags looking for food.
The first time it happened I knocked on the window and the squirrel ran off. Then it came back FOUR TIMES (waking me up each freaking time) until finally, the fourth and final time, I grabbed a broomstick, ran outside in my underwear (it wasn't quite light out yet and my shirts were still in the washing machine) and chased the damn thing across the lawn. It never returned.
Well, Mr Squirrel probably told the other woodland creatures, because this morning I woke up to a big fat raccoon.
[Looked like this but much fatter.]
Again, it was 5am and I heard a scratching noise by my window. I woke up, banged on the glass, and it ran off. A couple minutes later the little turd came back.
I banged on the window again but he already got what he wanted. He looked up at me, paused, and stared for a moment like he just got away with a crime. A whole piece of pizza was hanging out of his mouth as he ran off into the woods.
Why the heck did my roommate throw away perfectly good pizza? I'd have eaten it.
So, yeah... if you live in Chesterfield and see a swarthy male running around outdoors looking like a speed freak, in his underwear, with a broom in hand, please understand that he is only protecting his garbage from theft. Do not taze him, bro.
Conclusion:
The solution to this problem is to simply take my trash out and put it in the dumpster instead of leaving it in the cart. But... nah.
I've also learned that furry woodland animals share information. They probably get together once a week behind some bushes, share some punch and pie, and discuss their latest findings. I suspect they even follow Roberts Rules of Order and have elected officers. Next time I'm going to set a trap.
Now I will head back to bed.