WHAT IS CASEY LOOKING AT?

We both believe we are on the wrong side of the door here.  Note the bare feet and surrounding whiteness.  I got carried away and rushed out to try to get a picture without proper preparation.  

 When I finally had the sense to put my boots on for a closer look, our prey let us come right up to him.  Not that he had any choice.  Its pretty slow going in deep wet snow; post storm.

 I imagine late winter porcupine was a tasty treat in the olden days, And I'll bet it tasted like chicken. And I'm glad I didn't have to pluck it!

This guy was a good size, and pretty cute in his scruffy, slow-moving way.  I'm betting he's not much of a conversationalist.  His survival strategy was not to move a muscle, but you wouldn't want to get within tail's reach, which is why Casey had to be satisfied with being on the inside.