I thought I had been feeding stray cats until one night I came down stairs to find a raccoon had come through my cat door and stood looking at me, staring at an empty dish I had been filling nightly for strays. Tonight it was empty.

She gave me a baleful look, I say she because it was clear she was pregnant with pups and looking to feed six. 

So this was a particularly irritating trip for her, to come all the way over to my house and find the supper bowl was empty.
I was still recovering from the effrontery of having a large pregnant raccoon standing in my kitchen, now we were both affronted, staring at each other.
She sniffed around, not afraid in the least, hunched her shoulders, turned around murmuring I'm sure something about "unreliable people" and started to exit languidly, ever so languidly.
"Wait," I said, "I might have something for you" and offering her a bit of cheese.
She stood up, yes stood up on her haunches, they can do that, took the cheese with those incredibly malleable fingers raccoons have, and offered me in return just a dollop of raccoon contempt, as if to say, "this for six?"

Before I could humbly apologize for my thoughtlessness, she waddled out the door stood five feet out started to lick her haunches, all the while thinking I am sure about the next stop on her route.
Stupidly, I said to her, "When are you due?" 
She barely turned offering only the teenie-weeinest little contempt at my question. I, hoping to detain her a while as  I searched for food, kept talking.
"Who's the father?"
Small rage gathered in those eyes as she turned slowly. "God, "I thought do raccoons understand English? Does this raccoon understand English?"
Fully rounded, she sat back on her haunches again so as not to waste standing energy on me, and contemplated her options.
I said "Wait here," disappearing back into the kitchen where I secured a jar of peanut butter bringing it out to her thinking we were going to be chums.
Getting down on my haunches, I offered her a sniff of the jar, just to arouse her taste buds, and, she took the jar, and, with a single move, sank those fingers right through the tin top of the peanut butter jar.

Impressed with her abilities, I backed off  to watch her sink another set of five fingers right through the top of the peanut butter jar and I swear took both hands and unscrewed the top of the jar.
Understanding now that I was in the presence of a Superior Being I watched her paw out her first dab, quietly looking at me, no, right through me. 
Dab by dab those delicate looking fingers swooped out handful after handful of the peanut butter, content for the moment, probably thinking that I had some use after all.
Sally, (I named her Sally) suddenly hissed, turning around at some sound behind her and she did an Ninja turtle stance and moved away from me into the shadows. 
I heard rustling in the bushes and more hisses, sure Sally had one hand up for combat, and one hand clutching the peanut butter jar fighting off some other raccoon who wanted in on the feast.

Next day I stocked up on cat food and peanut butter.