Dear Mr. (or Mrs.) Raccoon:
I saw you eating my garbage last night. I was laying in my bed, ready to go to sleep, when I heard the crash of my garbage can hitting the ground as you knocked it over in search of sustenance. I knew I hadn't heard the sound of a car door, and I know you've been in my garbage before, so I snuck over to the window to investigate.
There you were. Eating my garbage. You in all your masked garbage-eating glory.
I tried not to think about the mess that I would now have to clean up in the morning. I tried not to feel like a horrible neighbour for not buying a garbage can with a lid that ties down, (although in all fairness, the garbage can came with the house). I tried to hope that the bag of cat poop I scooped from my furball's litter box tonight and put at the top of the can would deter you just a little from the actual garbage underneath.
Apparently you didn't care about the cat poop because there is quite the array of garbage all over the street that I now have to clean up before the garbage man gets here. You are really, REALLY lucky it hasn't started raining yet or I would be even more annoyed than I already am.
So be warned, Mr. (or Mrs.) Raccoon. Your garbage-eating days are coming to an end. I've decided that from now on, until we get a garbage can with a lid that ties down, I won't be putting my garbage at the road until the morning before the garbage man comes. I will keep it in my garage where it will be safe from your garbage-thieving paws. So. Ha.
The very unimpressed owner of the garbage can you robbed last night