Tag: Raccoons

I republished Nothing Ever Dies of Old Age in The Wild last week in preparation for this week’s post.

Clarissa, a female raccoon with kits of her own (quite shy, haven’t filmed all of them yet), came out for peanuts and cookies with some of her kits and all of Hecate’s kits.

I tossed and spread food as I always do, then noticed Clarissa demurred. She may be shy with me but demure with other raccoons, especially someone else’s kits, she’s not (she’s the one by the pole on the right of the video).

I stayed out quite a while (this video is three clips made across a good chunk of time) and realized she’d hurt her paw. She could barely hold things with it and wasn’t putting any weight on it.

Naturally – or should I say as is Nature’s way – the other raccoons took advantage of her disadvantage to harass, intimidate, and otherwise steal from her.

I cut a nasty scene out of the video.

I know such things occur, I only wish they didn’t. The Wild is more like kids on a playground than diplomats at a table. Humans have laws but those laws only work when everybody agrees to let them work.

The law of The Wild isn’t one of mutual agreement so much as it’s one of balance; One suffers and another does not. One dies and another lives.

Sometimes I break the law. I put out more than enough food and separate the piles so that territories don’t matter. The This is mine and what’s yours is mine law doesn’t apply because it’s too much effort to go and risk conflict than to stay and eat what’s here.

I wish humans could learn that one; if you have enough here, you don’t need to go elsewhere.

But I also know coupled with that is and understanding of “how much is enough.” The Wild knows this in full. Extreme conditions induce aggression – what’s called surplus killing – in The Wild, and I mean extreme conditions. Major meteorological and/or climatic upheaval, for example.

That noted, humans should watch out. The Wild won’t follow your laws.

And you’re not prepared for Its.

 

Ah, children.

And parent.

I mentioned previously that the Hecate‘s kits have been out and about in daylight, a sign they’re mature enough to handle themselves to Hecate’s satisfaction.

They’ve also become quite accustomed to me.

To the point they knock on our door should I not be out there quick enough with peanuts, cookies, dogfood, et cetera.

Ever been someone’s servant?

Ever been The Wild’s servant?

I don’t mind. It’s a welcome price to have Nature close at hand.

As mentioned previously Hecate and her kits come out during daylight now. One aspect of this is that I get to spend more time with them.

Learning their names, for example.

Although this year’s kits seem much more interested in food than saying hello.

Kits these days.

But one young fellow, Mason, has shared his name.

A few years back one of the neighborhood (human) children asked me how I knew the animals’ names.

“I asked you your name, didn’t I?”

Yes.

“Well, shouldn’t I show them the same respect?”

But they can’t tell you.

“Of course they can. You just have to be willing to listen.”

 

I shared Hecate‘s revealing her kits to us in last week’s installment.

Proud mother that she is and knowing this Two-Legger always has a plentiful supply of peanuts and cookies, she’s brought them back many nights running.

Of course, this means they’ve gotten use to me.

Ever had raccoons get use to you?

Baby raccoons?

They have no respect.

They run over my feet, paw my legs, stand up with their little paws out.

I feel like I’m in Oliver Twist. “Please, sir. More.”

Hecate, me thinks, is glad to have us as grand…parents? Her children definitely qualify as grandkits.

I mentioned Clyde in the last installment. We’re going with Brutus as a nickname. The smallest is Penelope. She’s always the last to come forward, the first to leave. I worry for her. You may remember Bess from a few years back. She didn’t make it.

Such is life in The Wild.

And without further adieu, more kits:

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