Raccoon Story
The baby was somewhat larger than a kitten. But there was nothing “kitten-like” about it’s dark eyes, and the rows sharp teeth lining it’s mouth. I’ve seen raccoons at some distance, sometimes as close as the garbage containers which attracted their attention. A few months ago, with 
difficulty I dislodged one that had peeled back the aluminum soffit and was busy gnawing a hole for itself into the attic.
We visited Bumbleberry Farm yesterday to pick blue berrys. At the petting zoo we were shown a baby raccoon. The animal had the familiar mask, long whiskers, and was always moving about, feeling it’s surroundings with those tiny little paws. We were told that the baby was part of a litter that has lost it’s mother, and had been nursed back to life after suffering severe lack of nourishment. The attendant caring for the animal 
explained that it was not possible to domesticate a raccoon. The wildness would always remain, and that the animal could not be kept caged indefinitely. A raccoon needs to move around at will, explore it’s surroundings. If the animal is caged for too long, it will attack it’s human handler when it has the chance. Also, she said that raccoons have unpredictable tempers. If one feels it’s food source is threatened, it hunches up it’s back in preparation to spring forward to the attack.
I could imagine a adult raccoon many times the weight of this baby flying through the air with open jaws.
I was content to watch the baby just close enough to take photos. Children could hold and pet the animal if they desired. I am sure the raccoon had rather be left alone, — to be a raccoon.
While I asked the farm worker about her life and work on the farm, the animal ambled off, and for a short while was not in view. She offered that no one should worry because the raccoon will not go far.
How do we “let Nature be Nature” in the confidence that it will not turn on us in fury, will always be at hand to meet our needs?
