She arrived at my back door one day over 35 years ago with her little baby in tow, at that time, her fur was falling off her, she was skinny and bedraggled, hoping that perhaps there was something to help keep them alive through her connection with us. I hadn't seen any raccoons on the island during the previous 8 to 10 years we had lived here although there were quite a few on an island nearby. She must have swum over with her baby on her back out of desperation. I had some smelt in the freezer from visiting my parents on the ocean down in Washington State. I talked gently to her and left the fish outside for her. She had a spot on the white part of her right front paw, so we named her "Spot".
I don't have pets, just animal "friends", who I have had the pleasure and gift to get to know, sometimes being my closest friends who have taught me so much.
(Raven would get behind them and pull their tails)
She got healthy and stayed around like some do, coming and going, doing her own thing, teaching the young one how to find wild food from the ocean and the land. She visited us quite often and we would give her any edible scraps we were throwing out.
We had had a slug problem in the garden, they were everywhere and hard not to step on, but after the raccoons showed up, they have not been a problem anymore, with only the occasional one having to be thrown out of the garden. The raccoons literally roll them on the ground with their front paws like a cigar, then stretch them out, like kneading dough until the slime is lessened and they are edible. The raccoon's paws double in size from the sticky goo, dirt and tree needles, etc. that adhere to them but this somehow wears away and they return to normal.
One day (they swim pretty good distances if necessary), a lovely male raccoon showed up in the spring. He was gentle and self sufficient and only had eyes for Spot. Her baby was grown up by then and they became lovers. I say this because they truly were, for all the 25 years I knew them. Spot would get all lovey when he was around, even if it wasn't mating time, she just had eyes for him and they were a beautiful, fine pair. We called him "Drippy" because his nose was always running with a drip hanging off it. My windows, where they sometimes walk the window ledge peering in, is always covered in signs of their wet noses.
Once, when visiting at a party on the beach of a neighboring friend, en route home by myself in the dark, my flashlight gave out. It was a very dark night in the forest and I became disoriented. As I stood there trying to get my bearings, I heard a rustle in the leaves near my feet. I am surprised to this day, that I instinctively knew it was Spot. I started to talk to her asking her to show me the way home and as I followed the sound of her soft feet and the energy of her body, I found myself on the trail near my home.
The year following her love of Drippy, she had four little fuzzy pups. She honored me by bringing them to meet me and allowed us to all become friends. I didn't try to touch them or anything, just sometimes gave them scraps but they hung around on my deck and loved to play. I had a kiddie pool that I kept full of water, not too deep, with an island in the middle, They were hilarious to watch, always splashing and tearing around, up and down the deck posts, in and out of the water, falling off the deck and racing back for more. I got such pleasure and had so many laughs with them.
After many years and many offspring, Spot was getting old and frail, her fur turned brown and grey and she got weaker. I believe she was 25 years old when she finally crawled down under the house to die for that is where I found her body a few months later, not far away.
Drippy, in his traveling, wild way, didn't stay around like she did. He lived to about the same age and after not seeing him for years, one day he showed up at the door, skinny and old, no tail, ears bedraggled, one drooping. I was shocked to see him after so long and in such condition (but that is the way of old age) and gave him some seeds and grapes I had on hand as I talked softly to him. He ate and ate and finally turned away. He must have gone walking home after his lats meal as I found his body on the beach the next day.... those two raccoons were amazing and taught me so much. I was honored he would come to say goodbye.
I sometimes hear the raccoons thumping around playing at night on the deck, they love to play, and hearing them, knowing they are around gives me peace...I know that they let me know of any predators around as they will disappear or be on high alert. I also know that predators like wolves or cougar will be well fed and I probably don't need to worry.
So I thank the raccoons.