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mpolo2

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Day in the life of a sad raccoon
Feb. 17, 2006. 08:25 AM
JOE FIORITO


Heli was driving down my street the other day with a baby in the back seat of her car. It wasn't her baby; she looks after a couple of kids at home. She was driving slowly. She couldn't have been going fast if she wanted to. We have a lot of speed bumps around here.

Halfway down the block, she spotted the raccoon. You don't often see raccoons at noon around here unless they are scurrying. This one looked dazed. It was just sort of weaving its way down the street in front of the car.

Heli thought it might be hurt. She pulled over. The raccoon seemed to have the staggers. Heli got out of her car and began half-herding, half-shooing the animal out of harm's way, moving it slowly toward a neighbour's yard, where it might find cover in the bushes. We aren't very big on lawns around here. We're also kind to animals.

Just then, John drove by in his pickup. John's a contractor. He's been putting in a new kitchen in a house around the corner. And hey, fellow doesn't very often see a woman herding a raccoon in broad daylight — oh, you have no idea what goes on around here at night — so John pulled over to see if he could lend a hand.

He and Heli agreed that the raccoon looked sick, and it might be blind. They decided they had to do something in order to keep it out of trouble.

John opened my front gate, mounted my steps and took my grey recycling box off the porch. He and Heli herded the raccoon onto the next-door neighbour's yard, where John trapped it under the box.

I was upstairs working at the time. I didn't hear a thing until John pounded on my door to let me know he'd taken the box, and I said that was fine by me, and John said he'd also called Animal Control, and Animal Control was going to send somebody over.

I went outside to take a look, and the three of us chatted for a bit and then Heli said, "There's a sleeping baby in my car," and she drove off.

John said he'd been on his way to buy some wood and some glue and maybe some lunch, and he and I stood there, thinking about lunch. And then the raccoon stuck out a forepaw from under the box, thinking about escape.

I have had plenty of raccoons scratching in my yard. They are usually quite efficient. This was some half-hearted, sickly scratching.

John put a foot up on the box to keep it in place, and then my other neighbour Keith and his friend Mike came by and stopped to chat.

Keith said, "I seen what was happening out my window. I like animals, man." And then, as if to qualify his remark, he said, "My dog got a cut on his leg the other day. I suspect it was from a raccoon. Six stitches. The bone was showing." All of us agreed that was the kind of thing that could happen. None of us thought this could be that raccoon.

Mike said, "A couple of weeks ago, my sister came into the alley behind my place with her car and she couldn't get in. There was a raccoon that was just standing there." Mike, who lives a couple of streets over, said, "She was nudging it with her car, I mean, just kind of gently. I came out. I was nudging it too."

By nudging, he meant he was whacking a stick on the ground a couple of feet from the raccoon, trying to scare it away. The raccoon would not be nudged.

Maybe this was that raccoon.

One of us said this raccoon had green stuff in its eyes and somebody said yup, that's probably blindness, and someone else said that would explain the staggering, and for a moment it was "All Creatures Great And Small" in Parkdale.

And then the blind raccoon started pushing against the box in earnest, and nobody really had the time to stick around with his foot on top of the box, so Keith hefted a big stone from a neighbour's rock garden and put it on top of the box to weigh it down, and that seemed to work, and we all went about our business.

I kept an ear out for the Animal Control guy.

Doug Stubbins pulled up a few minutes later. I told him what I knew. He said, "It sounds like distemper."

He got a long net and a wire cage from his truck. "Let's have a look." He tipped the newspaper box over and the raccoon looked around and blinked and Doug ushered him into the cage with the net.

Doug said, "Well, he's sick. He's in a bit of discomfort. I shouldn't be able to catch a raccoon." He put the caged animal in the truck. I took a closer look.

The raccoon smelled bad. It had green scummy eyes. I wondered how old it was. Doug said maybe 2 years old. I said, "Distemper?" Doug said it shows up in the spring, and he took the raccoon away.


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Joe Fiorito usually appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Email: jfiorito@thestar.ca.

to summarize:
man finds raccoon
man chats with neighbours
Animal control comes and gets raccoon.
 
Re: Please explain why this man is paid to write this stuff.

hey, if he can expand such a small issue like that to fill a page, he's a good writer.
 
Re: Please explain why this man is paid to write this stuff.

Keith's dog got a cut on his leg the other day. Keith suspects it was from a raccoon. Keith is correct, the rabid raccoon did indeed bite his dog, and the dog has now bitten Keith. Keith has just been nibbling his friend Mike, who also likes to play with raccoons in the alley behind his place, at night, when nobody is around. Mike's sister also "nudges" raccoons in the alley. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. Say no more. The neighbours know it goes on but they don't tell. All these people live in nice little houses on nice little residential streets and invite their friends over for afternoon tea on Sundays. If you go, don't eat the meat pate though. These people will trap wildlife in blue boxes and grey boxes. They will open the lids of green bins for their furry friends and dive in themselves given half a chance. What they do next isn't nice. Sometimes the delerium from the rabies gets so bad women get out of their cars and wander off, forgetting the babies in the back seat, like humans with the staggers chasing raccoons with the staggers.

Something must be done.

Better to live in a tall condo, looking out over the lake than mess with these people.
 
Re: Please explain why this man is paid to write this stuff.

:lol
 
Re: Please explain why this man is paid to write this stuff.

Linwood Barclay. Now, explain to me how he has a job.
 
Re: Please explain why this man is paid to write this stuff.

I would have preferred a story of some half-in-the-bag group of hunters wandering the urban jungle blowing away any animal, garbage can or lawn gnome that resembled a rabid racoon. To save the life of the poor disease-ridden demi-rodent, Pamela Anderson, PETA heroine, dressed in tight artificial leather products, would adavnce on the drunken, animal-hating meat-eaters and beat them silly with her animal bi-product-free implants.

You don't see stuff like this in the paper.
 

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