Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Misty, A Raccoon Story
When I bought Misty, she was six weeks old. The man I bought her from raised wild animals. He told me the only way to keep a raccoon was to have one that is second generation or third or more. He owned her parents and grandparents. They bond to only one person and she bonded with me.
She was like my alter ego. My Dad was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper. I was sitting in a chair and she very quietly climbed up the side of the couch, then up on the back of the couch and crouched and waited for my Dad to really get into the newspaper. Then she sneaked ever so slowly up to my Dad and bit his ear and ran off, took a flying leap on my Mom's drapes and climbed lickety-split to the top of her drapes. My Dad was yelling, my Mom was yelling and I was rolling in the floor laughing so hard.
We did everything together, she slept in my bed until her nocturnal jaunts forced me to put her in a cage at night. She loved to sit at my vanity while I put on makeup and she would touch my hair as I combed it and handled all of my ear rings. If she really liked them, she hid them and I never did find her little stash of shiney's.
I had a Aunt and Uncle that would come to visit about once a year. My Aunt was a fussy kind of lady who was really bossy. I didn't like her very much. Do you remember how you could have those old hair dryers that you would put on a chair and then if you put enough books under it, it was like going to a beauty shop. We had one and my Mom and Dad and my Aunt and Uncle were going to go out to dinner. My Aunt wanted that hair dryer and she was all comfy under it and she had her shoes off sitting in a chair with the hair dryer running. Misty and I had been sitting in a chair watching this when Misty got down out of the chair, went across the room and got under the chair where my aunt sat. Misty sat there thinking and I was watching when all of a sudden Misty grabbed my Aunt by the ankles with her hands, my Aunt screamed bloody murder, the books, the dryer the chair and of course Misty went flying. I was laughing so hard and I couldn't stop, and I had Misty in my arms as my Mom and Dad and Uncle came to see what all of the commotion was about. My Aunt was yelling " what a horrible child I was and she was leaving that house right now, that minute!!!"
My Mom told me to go apolgise. I tried, I really tried, but I just kept laughing and laughing so they packed their bags and left.
She was without a doubt the best animal I ever had. My family raised Shorthorn show cattle and sheep. My brother wanted to start raising pigs. My Dad put in a hot wire and it was low so the pigs wouldn't get out. Misty and I were walking down to the barn one morning. The hot wire was glinting in the early morning sunlight. She always stayed with me when we walked or rode on my shoulder hanging on to my hair. That morning the wire must have looked like a treasure. She ran past me and grabbed the wire with both hands. I ran as fast as I could as the wire was shocking her and grabbed her and pulled her loose. I ran back home and I put her in my bed and watched her all day. I thought she was gong to be okay.
Raccoons have no tolerance for electricity. I put her in her cage before I left for work. I called home in the afternoon to check on her. But sometime in the afternoon she died and when I came home my brother waited for me to be there before he buried her.
It was I suppose for the best. Later that year, I went to some friends of my parents. They had a elaborate set up for their two racoons. They told me that once she grew up, she would have to stay caged. Once they were full grown they were dangerous. I didn't want her to ever have to live caged the way theirs was so it was okay. In the spring when I read the book Rascal by Sterling North to my son, it is sort of like our book,
I read it and I am so glad that I too had a raccoon that had enriched my life.
Thank you so much for reading,