I have learned the hard way again that raccoons don't live by bread alone. Or, it seems, by any yummy grains. When a pair of rampaging raccoons made their way into my basement on a recent evening, they made it quite clear that they were not interested in any of the three kinds of nutty and grainy mouse food we keep on hand for our pet mice.

They ate the mice instead.
This, a mini version of survival of the fittest playing out in my home, was not a pretty sight. A large adult raccoon is a terrifying creature to face; the idea of the (apparently) tasty morsel of a mouse made them willing to face whatever two adult humans could do (not much) to drive the raccoons away. Unlucky for us, local animal control officers wanted nothing to do with helping us keep the natural order where it belongs - in nature. Lucky for us, two police officers were willing to help my husband bravely persuade the raccoons to leave the house (cat food did the trick), while I mostly cowered at the top of the stairs. The incident, though darkly comical in retrospect, ("Maybe I should have tasered it," one of the police officers joked after the second raccoon had fled safely and unharmed up a tree) was at times truly frightening. But it also was reminder to me that though we people are omnivorous by nature, eating other animals does not come without a price. You have to kill it first.