… because I had to rescue the young masked rascal again.

Again I made a milk-crate ladder, and again I had to coax the hapless breakfast-seeker to escape the dumpster in which he got trapped.  But this time, after exiting, he hung around a bit … and gave me that same interspecies-detente look that MamaCat once gave me before she became a permanent companion, along with her TinyCat cadre.  It’s that relaxed look an animal gives you that seems to say, “Okay, we’re friends now.”

I need to somehow decline this budding friendship tactfully.  Because my building superintendent will tolerate my occasional Cat Advocacy.  But I know he’d be less tolerant of Raccoon Rapport.