We have many raccoons. Most of them are quite social.
Chester, for instance.
Chester; you may notice, as a somewhat ratty tail.
A few years back we had another raccoon with a ratty tail.
Makes one wonder if they’re related.
We do monitor blood lines. Behaviors and distinctive features seen years ago surface now and again. We recognize Hecate‘s children by the white dot on their nose, a physical trait inherited from her. Sometimes the behaviors and features are so distinctive we know genetics must be at work.
Many years ago Serge came to visit. He dunked his food. Every year save one we’ve had at least one raccoon who dunks their food.
And all our raccoons, we think, are descendants of Rocky.
But for today, here’s Chester.
Say hello, everyone.
There is a joy in caring for The Old Ones.
I find a joy in caring for The Old Ones.
I don’t want to supplant the natural ways. Evolution has designed each to be the epitome of their moment in time.
To be trusted…
More than trusted, accepted, by a wild animal. To recognize it knows you will not harm it, will cause it no pain, will let it be what it is intended to be.
What a gift.
What a gift.
Each year we welcome at least one new family of raccoons into our yard. I shared our abundance of waking raccoons in Early March Raccooning, when last year’s kits and parents woke up hungry and looking for food.
One young lass, Hyacinthe, has frequented us regularly and, as we’ve learned, has five healthy kits (vids to follow at some point).
We also suspect she’s one of last year’s kits as she showed no fear of me and graciously took food from my hand.
Say hello to Hyacinthe, all.
Last week I shared Turkeys on the mating prowl in Two and a Half Toms. We continue the theme of Spring awakenings with today’s early March raccooning.
In early Spring all the Sleepers waken. Most are familiar with Bear. We have two, Horace and Lucien, who parade and not recently. Raccoons are not true sleepers, they do not hibernate, but they will go into prolonged sleep states to conserve energy. The pack it on before the snows hit and when they do rouse, they are hungry.
Case in point, these lovelies.
They come out in groups while remaining individuals. Kind of like everybody going to the club then going their separate ways in the hopes of nocturnal success.
I can write things like that because, in my younger days, I was among them.
No, not raccoons, clubbers.
Sometimes my early life’s behaviors disgust me.
But they do make good story fodder.
Humans are in a pandemic as I write this.
Covid-19. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?
Yet the Old Ones still gather daily and nightly in our yard.
I’ve often fretted about making offerings to The Old Ones. I make sure I offer enough to supplement, not enough to fulfill. I want them to find food their normal ways and not grow dependent. I worry what might happen to them once I pass.
Who will care for them?
I forget that they are Old Ones. They have survived human pestilence save humans being pestilence towards them.
I know certain diseases have ravaged wildlife.
I wonder if they know a disease is affecting Two-Legged life, or do they not care. Do they say amongst themselves, “They are Two-Legs. We were here before them, we will be here after them.”
I wonder how long the current pandemic will last. Or will it decimate Two-Legged life? Were the survivalists correct all along? If you’ve ever read Earth Abides or The Stand, you know the next chapter of humanity may not be all that pleasant.
And still, the Old Ones gather.
I’m sure they will after we’re gone.
The question is, how will they remember us.
So I’ll ask; how do you want to be remembered? Enter a comment. I’d like to know.