“Baby raccoons!” I gasped.
“Please,” she half sobbed. “Can we put them in your wild space out back so they will be looked after by another mama? Theirs was scared away and now they’re all alone. And you’ve got to feed them. You know those eye dropper things? You can feed them that way with some milk.”
She was on the verge of tears as her words tumbled out.
Papa had begun to spring clean their yard. To his shocked surprise, after opening the storage box which held his gardening tools, he came face to face with one large and fierce-looking raccoon. Grabbing a broom, he quickly shooed away the animal. Later, when he looked inside, he spied torn pieces of debris fashioned into a nest. Four furry little masked faces peered up at his strange face. Where was their mama?
Enter the red pail. Two little girls and one papa wearing protective gloves scooped up and placed the babies with some greenery in the pail. But where to take them? Of course, this was a Sunday and all manner of telephone calls for animal rescue went into voice mail.
After considerable discussion, the consensus was: take the pail of baby critters back home and place it exactly where the shed stood. Mamas of every species always come searching for their babies.
The next morning, we received happy texts: all four babies had been furtively removed during the night by one mama raccoon who was probably exhausted by morning. The two girls were relieved and ecstatic.
So what’s a little touch of the wild in the midst of our concrete jungle?