Last year I was at my wits' end with curbside organics recycling. A newbie composter, I dutifully discarded my melon rinds, coffee grounds, pizza boxes and other food waste into a shiny new plastic cart provided by my first-ring suburb.
I might as well have set out a blinking neon sign for the wildlife in my neighborhood announcing the hottest new all-you-can-eat buffet.
Squirrels gnawed their way through the bin's lid, leaving plastic orange confetti all over my driveway. Raccoons, on the other hand, simply lifted the lid and chowed down on leftovers, leaving a disgusting mess in their wake. I started placing a brick on top of the lid to deter them. But the raccoons just brushed the brick aside, or pulled down the cart with such a ruckus that it woke my sleeping kids.
Then came the summer infestation. After baking in the heat for days, the soupy, stinky kitchen scraps became a magnet for flies and — this is so gross! — maggots.
One person who felt my pain was journalist Amy Dempsey of the Toronto Star. She wrote a 5,700-word investigation into Toronto's efforts to distribute a "raccoon-resistant" compost bin. Launched in 2016, the bins had a locking mechanism that the mayor heralded as a special weapon in the fight against the city's legendarily clever raccoons.
"Defeat is not an option," he told reporters at the time.
But after the rollout, Dempsey's bin was being raided by the trash — er, organic waste — bandits. Video footage caught the nocturnal pilferers tipping the bin over, which made the lock's handle easier to turn.
"I think every solution humans come up with over time will be solved by these creatures. They're just too clever," she said.