Wild Life / Raccoon
little bosses
Hi, friends — I hope this year is wrapping up well for you. I think it’s been about a four-raccoon year for me (as in I’ve seen about four raccoons over the course of the year). I’m pretty sure that raccoons will eventually outsmart us, but in the meantime I’m amused by and curious about them and their lives in the shadows, under the trees, in masks, with glowing eyes. Please send along any stories, as I’m sure you have some. As always, thanks for reading, and Happy New Year! — Amy Jean
When we moved into our house about a decade ago, it had been vacant in the woods for a couple of years and the animals had gotten comfortable. Birds were surprised to find us coming out of doors under their nests; groundhogs walked up to windows; turtles nested in the middle of the yard; raccoons scuttled around corners. After about a month, all the animal residents had gotten the news that the house was occupied. They changed their paths, retreating back into the trees. One night we heard a racket and thought it was a bunch of turkeys, but I think it was actually raccoons having one last hurrah on a favorite rooftop.
Raccoons (Procyon lotor) have around 200 vocalizations, and their calls are not what you might expect. They whistle and chitter, growl, hiss and whimper, and make a twirly-sounding call that someone compared to spinning cotton candy. They are strangely haunting for such furry, solid-looking creatures, and it is their nocturnal status that gives them this otherworldly aura.
I only ever see raccoons shuffling into the underbrush along the edges of roads in the early morning. They are secretive creatures, and smart. Perhaps more than any other animal, they have figured out how to live around us and take advantage of our architecture and garbage. In one astounding estimate, there are 100x more raccoons in urban environments than in the country. They are omnivorous and enjoy our easy scraps. Is “trash panda” a term of endearment or despair?
Raccoons have extremely dexterous front paws—five long fingers, though no opposable thumbs. In the true wild, they find their food in the dark along the edges of water, mainly munching insects and invertebrates. The pads of their paws are thick but more supple in water and their sense of touch is acute. If it looks like they are washing their food, they are really just feeling it, making sure it’s appropriate.
As we continue to encroach on their habitats, raccoons will continue to adapt and figure us out, finding the hiding spots and makeshift dens around our architecture, unlatching our garbage bins, swimming in our pools. It seems only fair.
I rarely see or hear raccoons these days, except when it snows. Then I can trace their characteristic prints around the house and from tree to tree to compost bin. They are always there watching and learning with their bandit eyes, learning how to live in the space in-between.
Raccoon links—
Watch a Raccoon Scale a 25-Story Building in Minnesota (it takes a nap on a window ledge at floor 22) [National Geographic]
Dallas-area raccoon photographs an armadillo and white-tailed deer with a trail camera [DFW Urban Wildlife]
“These guys have figured out a way to live with us … Surely to God, we can use our giant cortexes and figure out a way to live with them.” Shy Raccoons Are Better Learners Than Bold Ones, Study Finds [New York Times].
Watch them solve problems and puzzle boxes in curious ways in this great video at Science Friday.
Also—
My raccoon drawing is for sale with some of the proceeds going to the Animal Cognition Lab [link].
Wild Life #43 / this newsletter is a place to learn about the life around us, one smart raccoon at a time. I do this because I’m not sure what to do about the millions of species in danger of extinction. It means something to see and enjoy the life around us. Thanks for reading and sharing. See you next year!
Happy New Year, Amy! So nice to find your art in my inbox this morning!
I have two raccoon stories. Years ago, friends had moved into a new home on the outer edge of a city. Lots of woods around them. One night we were visiting, and they were excited to show us the five or six raccoons that congregated on their deck each evening. The raccoons would stand on their hind legs and watch through the window.
About a month later, the friends came home from work to find raccoons. In their kitchen. They’d left the sliding glass door to the deck slightly ajar, and it was all the invitation the raccoons needed. They obliterated a bag of flour and scattered it everywhere.
One day at school, students were drawing with charcoal. I had them go outside to shake off the excess. The next morning there were dozens of raccoon paw prints in graphite all over the deck.
Raccoons! We moved into a new old house 2 years ago now, and this Spring (last May) the neighbourhood raccoon had 5 babies (Wiki suggests that's the max!). They frequent our backyard, probably because as the neighbourhood changes there are fewer yards and more built-up spaces; our neighbour has quite a backyard garden (built up over 50 years of living there!) that at her age she is less than keen on protecting; and we have (courtesy of the old owners) both a chaotic stand of plum trees and a salt water pool. I have found more than one plum at the bottom of the pool and something (the paw prints all around the pool deck) tell me the raccoons were involved.
The babies were all adorably unfrightened of humans - we wouldn't approach them but they would run up to us. Two scared me while in the pool at night as from my perspective they popped out of nowhere; another one, well, my husband and I were in the hammock at dusk, then he was like oh, Onyx (our cat) is nuzzling me...but Onyx is an indoor cat...it was one of the babies! But mom kept them in check as she would hiss and growl and herd all 5 of them (eventually, always a straggler or two) away until the yard emptied of humans.
They have yet to go for a swim. However when then pool is covered with a thin plastic cover (called a solar cover, to keep water warm) the babies would march out onto it and splish splash adorably. Then they got too large for it to hold their weight well and were quite upset!
I'm kind of sad that we will likely never see them as a troupe of 6 again! Circle of life. Lately I've seen footprints in the snow in the yard, but only one set.