A Guy Like Me

Walking down the street in a neighborhood like this could be dangerous for a guy like me.  All the people here live in fancy houses, unlike me; I don't have a home, at least, not much of one.  I guess I crash in the bushes behind the gas station a few blocks down, but I wouldn't call it home.  Anyway, the last time someone from this neighborhood saw me, she called the authorities on me.  Wouldn't want to sully the image the neighborhood with someone with actual problems.  But I got to eat, so I'm here to look through their garbage.  It's amazing what well-to-do people throw away.

I cautiously cross the street, trying not to spend too much time under the streetlight.  I don't come out during the day, not unless I have to.  Like I said, these people get pretty skittish if they see me.  As if I would attack them for no reason; just walk up to them, go "Rawr," and take a swing at them.  I don't want any trouble, man.  I'm just hungry.

I make it to my first stop of the night.  This house doesn't usually have the best pickings, but it is the closest to the street, so it makes sense to take a look-see.  Plus, they have plastic trash cans that don’t make a lot of noise, which is helpful for a guy like me.  I look inside the cans, but only see a bunch of cardboard.  They look to be in decent shape and would probably be great for making a "Please Help" sign, if I knew how to write.  Best to move on.

The next house I skip because they have a dog.  I don't want to announce to the whole block that I'm here and then have to run "home" with an empty belly.

House number three is usually one of the places I can rely on.  They have a cat that's pretty finicky and won't touch his food that they leave out for him.  Hey, cats aren't so different and eating fresh cat food is far from the worst thing that I've made dinner out of.  A guy like me could certainly do worse.  I get a couple of bites down when the dang cat shows up!  Now, I'm not worried about some silly cat, but I don't want it making a racket, so I grab one last bite and high-tail it out of there.  The cat starts moaning, probably because I was eating his food that he didn't even want until I got there.  Jerk.

Fourth house of the night.  Come on, give me something good!  The trash cans here are metal, but they left them on dirt, which is quieter than pavement, so I should be fine.  I get the lid off and start looking.  I don't like having to tear through the bags inside, but if there isn't any loose food outside them, I have to go deeper.  So I bite through the topmost bag and start digging.  Not bad!  Some spaghetti with meat sauce, some half-finished bottles of baby food, and some dry crackers!  I can probably fill up here!  Yeah, there's a couple of dirty diapers in here too, but their sealed up, so it should be fine.  Look, I'm already eating garbage, so it's not as if a guy like me can be too proud to not eat near a diaper.

I hurriedly eat as much as I can, worried that I'll be caught again.  I'm practically bursting when the outdoor light comes one.  Drat!  I grab an unfinished granola bar in my mouth and make a run for it.  I'm at the fence when I hear the homeowner come outside.  I make it to the top of the fence and look back.  We lock eyes for a moment, then I'm over the wall.  I'm clear when I hear the words leave his mouth: “Honey, it's that raccoon again.  I'm telling you, we really should get a dog.”

I make it back to the bushes behind the gas station just as the sun is coming up, tired but full.  This life may not be glamorous, but I usually get enough to eat.  As far as I'm concerned, that’s the best that a guy like me could ask for.