> Ive been fixated on the domesticated raccoon idea since I was a child
When I was about 12, I spent a summer volunteering at an Audubon Society program. Among my other responsibilities was caring for a litter of four orphaned raccoon babies (kits).
They were just like kittens or puppies. Adorable, sweet, friendly, funny, amazing. They'd climb on you, ride on your shoulder, loved to run and play. My favorite part was their hands/feet, which were always surprisingly cool to the touch.
I desperately wanted to take one, or all four, home with me at the end of the summer.
In retrospect, I'm not sure if the Audubon Society adults had a plan, per se -- the kits were found orphaned and brought in by someone. But the stated intention was to reintroduce them to the wild at the end of the summer, when they were old enough. I'm not sure whether that happened, and not at all sure it would have been successful, but these are the harsh understandings of adulthood.
(PS: I do not have, nor have I ever had, roundworms. I do not doubt the commentariat-wisdom here, but FWIW these kits were apparently clean.)
...
We also had a great horned owl who had been at the facility for a few years, due to a permanent wing injury. He generally preferred to be left alone (and that was respected), but he greatly enjoyed being fed mealworms from (a gloved) hand.
> I desperately wanted to take one, or all four, home with me at the end of the summer.
Had you read about pet raccoon attacks your mind would have been changed. They're definitely not suitable pets even though the kits are very charismatic. (I'd classify them in the same bucket as people who try to keep chimpanzees as pets... That works out tragically for all parties involved too.)
When I was about 12, I spent a summer volunteering at an Audubon Society program. Among my other responsibilities was caring for a litter of four orphaned raccoon babies (kits).
They were just like kittens or puppies. Adorable, sweet, friendly, funny, amazing. They'd climb on you, ride on your shoulder, loved to run and play. My favorite part was their hands/feet, which were always surprisingly cool to the touch.
I desperately wanted to take one, or all four, home with me at the end of the summer.
In retrospect, I'm not sure if the Audubon Society adults had a plan, per se -- the kits were found orphaned and brought in by someone. But the stated intention was to reintroduce them to the wild at the end of the summer, when they were old enough. I'm not sure whether that happened, and not at all sure it would have been successful, but these are the harsh understandings of adulthood.
(PS: I do not have, nor have I ever had, roundworms. I do not doubt the commentariat-wisdom here, but FWIW these kits were apparently clean.)
...
We also had a great horned owl who had been at the facility for a few years, due to a permanent wing injury. He generally preferred to be left alone (and that was respected), but he greatly enjoyed being fed mealworms from (a gloved) hand.