Wild Child

A few years ago, my eldest son "rescued" a tiny baby raccoon who had fallen out of a city tree and had been abandoned by its mother. Since he was living in the city himself...of course...he immediately brought it to my home in the mountains...an area scarce of raccoons...expecting me and his sister to know how to take care of this baby from the "wild". I figured it couldn't be too hard...just treat it like any other infant...Well, our "baby" thrived on the milk, and later lettuce and other delicacies it ate. No doubt the attention and affection helped too... Enjoying the run of the place, he would regal whoever was in the house with his varied sounds and songs - an amazing range of tones and expressions in his voice...no one who saw him could resist that cute face...those amazing eyes...that affectionate manner... By the end of the summer "our" raccoon became...quite large. By this time, he had begun to explore the outdoors, but was also interacting fully with us humans...trying to sit on our laps...holding out his "fingers" to grab ours...conversing in raccoon language...racing us to the front door...it was quite unbelievable. At about this point, it became obvious that it was time to move raccoon outside...to get him accustomed to his real identity...that he was a raccoon...and not a human...member of the family. We began in earnest the process of separation by letting him outside for longer and longer periods of time...and by feeding him less and less. Our little friend adapted quite quickly and well to the reawakening of his natural skills... In the meantime, he continued his "human" interactions as well...he would do things like come out of the woods to the house when he heard the "call" which my "rescuer" son had somehow figured out he'd respond to...he'd run up to greet me when he heard the car pull up, then with both "hands" would grab on to any bag I happened to be carrying and hang on while I carried the bag...and him - clutching on as if for his life - down to the house. It was like having the best of both worlds...a raccoon who was familiar with our human ways and seemed happy to live in our world, yet was self-sufficient and could also fend for himself in his.
One day, he didn't respond to his call...so my daughter and I knew...he had gone...most likely with another of his kind...a companion...and no doubt answering the beckoning of his other relatives who were out there somewhere. Suddenly, life was different...something was missing... For the next two or three summers, we would get a short excited visit ...we'd hear the familiar steps running on the porch...and that voice...of so many ranges...would call us out of the house. Sometimes he'd be traveling with another of his kind. Then...nothing...until last summer. Arriving home one day, I noticed deep claw marks on the front door...something had climbed up the door and peeked inside...I knew it couldn't be a bear...the marks were too small...and a bear would have surely succeeded in smashing the window out or even in breaking down the door... Hummm...I thought...could it be..............
The next day, I pointed out the claw marks to a friend who'd been to the house in my absence the day before. She told me that there was a raccoon on the porch when she arrived...but that it had wandered off into the woods when she came closer. Darn...I had missed a visit...a long awaited visit...from our "now emancipated child" who had given us a lot of laughs...tender moments...and an incredible and unique view into who these creatures are...and their extreme skillfulness in communicating, adapting, giving affection...and remembering... Sharing our home with this visitor had also shown me the human ability to coexist with creatures "from the wild." Yes...he had tested our patience on occasion...but only because his "raccoonness" grated on our "humanness"... and judging from the seemingly frustrated tone which could sometimes be heard in his voice, I'm sure we tested his also... Hopefully, he was given something treasured in return... I like to believe so...and that maybe, just maybe, one day this summer...I'll hear those familiar footsteps running onto the porch...hear that familiar voice calling me out...for a short...excited...visit...