This is the first in the series of 14 little stories about the true, but short, life of our raccoon. Each installment should be ready at 8 each morning if you want to make plans to read a story a day throughout the holidays! I hope so much that you and your children enjoy this little bayou adventure. BW
Her name is Chaoui (pronounced shawee), which is French for raccoon. She was born in our attic, along with her two siblings. Noisy little creatures they were. That’s how Termite found them one hot summer day this past June. Frankly, when I shined the light on them and saw their wiry little bodies, I was frightened, but Termite just had to bring them down.
We bought kitten formula and fed them from a baby bottle and kept them in a cardboard box. Their eyes had just opened, making them about a week old. Of course, my first thought was to find a rescue center for them. The only one we found would not take them because 1)they weren’t wounded 2)they carry rabies and distemper, similar to puppies.
Chaoui bonded with Termite instantly and they were almost inseparable–until I told him he would have to lick her poop (like the mommy raccoon) in order to keep things clean. Not to be dissuaded, though Termite took to wrapping her in little towels, which he said he would launder (and never did).
We gave the two siblings away to a friend of mine in the big city of Baton Rouge, who really loves coons. That left us with one very manageable coon. This might be a good experience.
Here is her baby photo–our Chaoui, the coon who didn’t know she was a raccoon.