The Case Of The Garbage Picker Has Been Solved

My father built the garage with overhead doors on both the front and back to facilitate any need for something large to get into the backyard.

I leave the back door up about 8" so our cats have a place of refuge if there's a storm or if they're in danger. Of course, and open door is an open invitation that doesn't necessarily apply only to my kitties.

During the summer, something would come in during the night, tear open the garbage bags, and pull everything out in search of something delectable. Usually it was Fancy Feast cat food cans that made it the furthest out of the bag so I tried to pin it on a cat. At first I blamed my own since they have the best access. Yet, it's hard enough to get them to eat inside the house let alone going to all the trouble of them actually working for their meal. Beg? Yes. Tear open a bag for week old gravy in a can? Not so much.

Then I turned an accusatory eye to the neighborhood cats. Oh, they're around all right. There's been many a time I've had to rescue one of my own from the perils of an attack occurring right on our front porch. It was them, I thought, the bastards. Not only were they ill-mannered bullies, but their owners were derelict in their duties of keeping them fed properly!

Last night I was sitting on the couch working on the USA Today crossword puzzle. While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping. As of something gently rapping, rapping outside my garage door. Aha! At last, at last, I would catch the dirty bird in the act! When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a heretofore unseen animal who looked up with a sneer!

Pardon the poor photos. The first was through the window in the door as it sniffed the garbage bags. A brief wave of courage washed over me and I opened the door a crack, pushed the camera through, and took the second when it was further away. It's blurry, but I don't stink. A fair trade.