Friskie

One of the highlights of my childhood was my very unique pet, Friskie. Why was Friskie so unique? He was a raccoon. How and why did we end up with a raccoon? Impulsiveness and compassion I believe.

I was young, so my memories are fuzzy but I will do my best to tell an accurate story. I do know we were on the island road winding through the woods before getting to the marsh. I was in the back seat and my mother and Jack were in front. Suddenly, without warning, Jack yelled for mom to stop the car. He grabbed a towel from the back seat (which I think was there because I got car-sick sometimes) and ran into the middle of the road. He didn't explain what was happening. Next thing we knew he came back to the car holding a very sickly little raccoon. When we looked at the road there was a mother and other baby raccoons that had already crossed. Friskie was the runt and appeared sick so he was being left behind. That is, until Jack rescued him.

Jack appeared to be a tough German hunter/farmer/waterman type. It would seem out of character for him to jump to the rescue of some little wild animal. But, that is just how he is. Compassionate when you least expect it.

The next part is fuzzy for me to remember. Somehow we got him eye medicine and formula and bottle-fed him back to health. He ended up living in our kitchen in a big box that (I assume) Jack built for him. He couldn't roam in the house because he was a wild animal after all and was difficult to catch. He also had this nasty habit of tearing the plaster off of our kitchen wall. So, he lived in his big box in our kitchen with a chain leash so he could move around without "escaping."

He was quite entertaining to watch. I liked to feed him and watch him eat. For those that have never seen a raccoon eat (which is likely most people), it is pretty fascinating. He was very clean. He would dip his hands in water and pick up the food and eat it with his hands. He loved Fruit Loop cereal and scrambled eggs. At least that is what I remember. I worshipped my little Friskie.

The problem was he didn't stay little for long. Pretty soon he was huge and getting tired of being confined to our small kitchen. Now this part I think I have blocked mainly because it was too painful, both physically and emotionally. Somehow I got a few sets of nasty bites from Friskie (still have the scars). This led to him being moved outside to live in our doghouse on a leash. I believe it was mating season and he was just going wild. It was so sad because to me he was part of the family.

Soon after we moved him outside we found the empty leash one day. This meant Friskie was now loose in the wild. He had no skills to live in nature without us. It was also likely that the “trappers” that hunted raccoons would catch him in a trap. I remember being absolutely heart broken. My Friskie was gone.

I will never forget my time with Friskie (partially due to the scars on my arm). Some people have cats, dogs, hamsters, chickens - which we also had - but we had a pet raccoon. This was another interesting twist to life on the island.

(Disclaimer: I don't recommend rescuing baby raccoons from the wild due to risk of exposure to rabies, the fact that it is illegal, etc. But, like usual in my family growing up, we didn't really follow the rules. Luckily Friskie wasn't rabid!)