Tag: Raccoons

Ah, the holidays.

A time when families gather.

Or at least Hecate’s family gathers.

It’s been a while since we’ve seen the whole family together.

Cause for celebration, this. There are idiots…I mean, hunters…in the woods. The Old Ones come nightly for shelter. When we don’t see one for a while, we wonder.

The Ways of The Wild are not our ways. If we are to survive, we must adapt, not they. They evolve along ancient patterns and lines.

Not so us. If we still evolve, it is to strengthen our thumbs for TXTing, perhaps.

But here, all are safe.

Would that that be the case for all souls this holiday.

That is our wish.

And even though some are hunted, The Old Ones tell us it is their wish for us, as well.

Ah, children.

They grow. They make friends. They borrow the car keys, see you later can I have them, please?

Child-rearing in The Wild is fascinating. Whichever parent takes on the task will defend their children to the death. But once a child is old enough to fend for itself? It’s a competitor for whatever resources are available.

If there’s enough, child and parent tolerate each other. If not, somebody eats, somebody goes hungry.

There are exceptions, of course. Socially gregarious animals – those who live in herds or packs or communities of some kind – care for each other throughout their lives. If you ever want your heart ripped from you, watch a mother elephant stay with her dying calf until it passes.

I’m crying just with the memories.

Here we had siblings gather for dinner. No mom around. Perhaps, raccoons being how they are, she was glad to have the den to herself.

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 an 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.