Hearing thumping from outside, I acted with my usual cat-like reflexes--"Huh? Wha? Oh, hey, is there something out there...?"--and hurried to the glass to flip on the light switch.
And there it was, revealed at last, our long-time trash bandit--Procyon lotor, the good ol' raccoon.
It blinked up at us. I said "Oo! A raccoon!" James, watching the agonizing and drawn out end-game of "Shadow of the Colossus," and thus at a low spiritual ebb said "Unngnghhh..." We went out and bungie-corded the lid down, while the leaves rattled and crashed as the furry renegade lumbered off. (He was a well-fed city raccoon--"lumber" is definitely the operative word.)
I feel gratified to at last know the identity of my trashcan nemesis.