The following slice of life is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent--but it could happen to almost anyone nowadays.
Two of these innocents--let us call them Joe and Mary--are in bed sound asleep. Mary's eyes open suddenly. Quietly, urgently, she prods Joe. "There's someone in the house!" she hisses.
Heart racing, Joe slides out of bed and digs the family revolver out from beneath the socks. Sneaking down the stairs, he sees that the bathroom lights are on. Clenching his gun in both hands like Dirty Harry, Joe pauses against the wall next to the door, then lunges around the corner to confront the intruder. Nothing there! But the medicine cabinet is open, and floating in the toilet are Band-Aids, a package of Q-Tips and a deodorant stick. There is no time to contemplate, though. A crunching, rustling sound emanates from the kitchen.
The kitchen door is ajar; a light is on. Water is running. With white-knuckled resolve, Joe bursts through the door. The intruder is caught red-handed--in the act of holding a bite-sized Shredded Wheat under the tap--and for a split, existential second, they face each other. But before Joe's brain can send an impulse to his trigger finger, the raccoon leaps down from the sink, careens across the floor in a flailing, skidding scramble of legs, feet and claws and disappears out the cat door.