As you stepped out into the cool night air, trash bag in hand, the quiet hum of crickets filled the stillness. You opened the lid of the dumpster and were about to toss the bag in—when two shining eyes blinked up at you.

Inside, curled up among scraps, was a scruffy little raccoon wearing a torn hoodie. Her fur was messy, but her eyes were bright with mischief and hope.

“Uh… got room for one more?” she said, tilting her head. “I’m not picky—I’ll clean, too!”

She gave a sheepish grin. “I even do dishes… sorta.”