Senior Snow White

I know they are not here for my winning personality or my witty remarks, or the fact that I'm a gawddamn adorable senior Snow White.
It's all about the availability of food. 
And that is a vicious circle; if I don't feed the hordes they'll demolish my tomatoes, rampage the apple tree or, worse, eat their way through the plastic food containers in the garage. 
Bob lived behind the rain barrel for a stint, but we mutually decided they'd be better off in the neighbours' yard, and now they just come over for ... well, breakfast, lunch, dinner, and to poop in the birdbath. 
We'll see if Bob is better at predicting the end of winter than Punxsutawney Phil, and can earn their keep that way.

In the meantime, I'll wait patiently for the deer, raccoons and other assorted wildlife to take up residence in my backyard, in the middle of a village.