My husband got home from work about 8 on Friday morning and heard a noise in the front yard - sort of a crying / hurt animal noise. But he didn't see anything, so he came in.
About 9:30, we were headed out and then he saw it - a baby raccoon was at the bottom of our tree in the ivy (or the #$%@$ ivy, as I prefer to call it), looking like it wanted to climb up, but couldn't. We stopped to look at it for awhile, took pictures of its cuteness and then wondered... hmm... you don't usually see baby animals all by themselves...
We decided that mama must be gone and this little orphan was left alone on the lawn. My husband asked what we should do. Pragmatically I said, we should go to the appointment we were now late for and think of what to do about this when we got home, as it would surely still be there if mama was really "gone."
We got back around 11:30 and didn't see "Rocky" (or Roxanne. I never really got to know the little furball *that* well). But then we went out to the store a few hours later and I realize he (or she) had just moved a bit and was now about 3 feet from the tree on the other side. We also noticed that there was a second baby over there, but it looked like that one hadn't made it. So we were left wondering what to do again?
Now here's the thing - if this were a full grown raccoon, we'd be giving the thing a damn wide berth. I might be calling animal control for that, but for very different reasons! But this one was... cute!
So we called animal control who gave us the number of some rescue operations in the area. We left a message and headed to the store. All the while my husband was saying, "we can't adopt a raccoon" (in that voice that says - I'm trying to think of how we can adopt this raccoon...). The rescue people called us back and offered to pick it up. They also confirmed that we shouldn't feed it (they have very sensitive stomachs as babies) and we should be careful about touching it (keep the baby and the dog away), as they can be born with rabies and it can be transferred via fluids.
So when we got home, my husband put on his fire gloves (to protect if it bit) and set up a little "home" for it - a cardboard box with newspapers, a hospital blanket and a hot water bottle. Apparently, when he picked it up (by the scruff as mama would have), it barely reacted at all. And we waited for the rescue people to come by. (Side note - when he called the first rescue number, he got the "rescuer's" husband who said - she's taking ANOTHER raccoon?!)
After a little while, my husband went to check on the baby (he'd left the box outside) and it was gone! There was a big scratch (from the outside) in the box and the little raccoon was gone along with his/her sibling on the lawn. Mama came back! Or so my husband assures me to prevent the inevitable - did something come and eat the baby raccoon? - conversation.
Now all this is cute and Disney. But just wait for my blog in a year or two - and those #$~!% raccoons are in my garbage again! ;)
So am I the only sucker who tries to save baby animals (that will later destroy my yard!) or do you do the same?