Raccoon encounter #2...no dancing this time.

This is a continuation of my previous story of triple-dodging a raccoon. It just so happened, that only couple days after I danced with the raccoon, I saw another one in almost the exact same spot. Now, naturally, I was feeling a little bolder. I was probably still on cloud nine from my dance a couple nights before. And here, right in front of my path is ANOTHER raccoon! In all probability, it was the same exact one. It was hard to tell because this one had its face buried in a trash can. So, at first, I just watched the little guy eat.
It gets better. It left the one trash can and went to another. So, I followed him to the next. There was something going on in my mind as I was watching and following this critter. The poor guy was hungry...and having no luck finding any crumbles in the trash and I was thirsty...thirsty for some excitement involving this natural born thief. He went to another. As I watched him go to this trash can, a plan hatched in my mind. Yes, exactly. It hatched. I realized that I wanted to touch this raccoon.
I pictured myself grabbing it as it stuck its head into the bin, but the picture that unrolled in my mind consisted of me turning my head away and holding the raccoon as far away from my body as I could, while the raccoon made unusual noises, wriggled and squirmed, clawing my arms like a farmer hoes his garden. There would be no grabbing this thing. However, during all of this thinking, I had been inching closer to Reginald, which is the name that I have just given to the raccoon.
I was two feet, TWO FEET, away from this amazing masked critter, Reginald. He looked at me, but the hunger in his eyes pushed away all fear in his bones, and he stuck his masked face into the garbage can. Politely and eloquently, I extended my hand towards its body. I am physically shaking with excitement and anticipation. If someone were to walk by me, they might have thought I was having a seizure. I don't really know what I was planning on doing. After I had decided I would not grab Reginald, I ceased to come up with a plan B. I did know that the rarity of the opportunity that sat before me was mind-numbing.
I extended my hand a little closer. My arm is jolting up and down with the rapidity of an automatic shotgun that is pointed at the ground. In all likelihood it would have registered as a 4.0 earthquake on the richter scale. I have a smile on my face that no professional window washer from New York could have wiped off. My hand extends a little further and--the only picture I had in my mind was Reginald, wildly turning around, showing its teeth and gnawing on my hand because it couldn't find anything in the trash can. I am right outside the library. Anyone could be passing by, but nobody is. Probably for my demise.
Reginald is feasting away or looking desperately for some leftover sushi scraps. I have no idea what it was looking for.
I POKED THE RAVENOUS RACCOON!! It didn't even turn around or pull its head out of the trash bin. So I poked it again, turned around like a champ and walked off with some bounce in my step, feeling like Napoleon Bonaparte when he took the crown out of the Pope's hand and placed it on his own head.