Fifteen Days

Have you washed your raccoon today?

Saying goodbye to Glory the raccoon was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in a while. I know it doesn’t have to be forever, but she was such a part of my daily life for so many years that her absence is shattering.

Still, there’s a definite up-side.

Tonight, for the first time since she’s been alive, Glory is truly safe. Letting her live here with me meant risking her life every single day. Just ask Dana Shook Bennett, who lost Sly Cooperette in 2015 to a group of armed law enforcement officials dressed in tactical gear and carrying large guns. Read the story HERE. While Glory was not caged and had free roam of the property, I am sure she would have been killed and tested for rabies just like Sly if game officials had discovered her presence. Laws regarding wildlife are utterly ridiculous in some states, and Virginia is one of the worst.

For five years Glory ruled this house, destroyed things as it suited her, and trashed entire rooms just because she could.

She terrorized the dogs, did crazy dances on open window sills, hid voluntarily when strangers dropped in, and complained loudly about them after they left. Sometimes she bit me.

Sometimes she bit me hard.

Other days I’d wake to find her sleeping beside me in my bed.

Glory did as she pleased. She’s lived her whole life on her own terms, so making a decision for her about how she’ll spend the rest of it seems unfair. But she absolutely could not stay here, in this house, alone. The new owners would kill her. I have no doubt about that.

At the raccoon sanctuary where she lives now, she has others of her kind to interact with daily. She has access to food and water round the clock. Every need is met. And when I’m back in the States, I can visit her. She will probably threaten to eat me alive by then, but she will remember me. I will certainly never forget her.

Without a doubt, a few conservationists will squawk about raccoons being confined. They would argue that euthanasia would be preferable to caging a non-releasable raccoon, and at this point, Glory is definitely not releasable. To those people, I say eff you sideways with a pogo stick. I spent the last five years living with this animal in her "voluntary confinement," with every door and window in the house standing wide open as she ignored the hell out of them. I know far more about her moods, likes, dislikes, and habits than any educated idiot who thinks "wild animals" should never be kept in captivity ever will. Glory does not like the great outdoors. When given a choice, she stays inside. Killing her to make a self-righteous human feel better is not an option. That is why she lives in South Carolina now, where fools with degrees cannot make life or death decisions on her "behalf."

In Saturday’s post, “Seventeen Days,” you can read about her reaction to being uprooted and moved six hours away. Today, I can tell you that she handled the trip well and didn’t seem traumatized by her change in circumstances. Dana said she is eating well and occasionally comes out of hiding to interact with the neutered male raccoon in the enclosure beside her. His name is Sam. On the other side of him is Bentley, and on the other side of Bentley is Cookie. There are females inside Dana’s house that Glory may get to meet soon if she behaves herself. Time will tell.

For now, I’ll leave everyone with a compilation of video clips I’ve taken of Glory over the years. This little movie is about twenty minutes long, which is lengthy for anyone to watch, but if you’re curious about how we all got along while living here together, it will certainly shed some light. Enjoy!

Other Posts in this Series (because this one won't make sense if you haven't read the other ones)

Forty Days
Thirty-Nine Days
Thirty-Eight Days
Thirty-Seven Days
Thirty-Six Days
Thirty-Five Days
Thirty-Three Days
Thirty-Two Days
Thirty-One Days
Thirty Days
Twenty-Seven Days
Twenty-Six Days
Twenty-Five Days
Twenty-Three Days
Twenty Days
Eighteen Days
Seventeen Days