Why Raccoon?

If you walk the streets of the isthmus after dark, say around midnight, you'll be treated to a mixture of sounds and scents so vivid that the lack of visuals may pass your perception without a second thought. The earthy, silty smell of lake Mendota or, if the wind is blowing in the opposite direction, you may be treated to the mucky, feted aroma of Monona. Considering the constricted width of Mid-Madison, you're probably getting some percentage of each. On the surface the rippling waters, clugging engines, and regular bustle of a big-small town could drown out the finer details much like a street light pollutes the cornea making constellations shrink from view; however, Madison sleeps. At a certain point away from the capitol, around a back alley, and through a couple trees you'll find it: dead silence. That's where you find them. Natures christened thief and roustabout. The raccoon.

Now-a-days the internet has taken the raccoon and made it a circus attraction for folks to oooo and ah over, but I'd recommend, as I do with many aspects of social media popular landscape, overlooking the videos of bumbling rodents bouncing off trashcan lids to the true traits of Procyon Lotor. Even the genus holds falsehoods. Procyon, derived from the Greek, means "before-dog" which is unequivocally false: raccoons are not related to dogs. Let us instead look to the attributes that can be correctly attributed to these proto American ramblers. First and foremost is their ability to scavenge and survive. Raccoons are often viewed negatively for their propensity to consume trash, yet we have very lofty opinions of dogs who have that same potential. Beyond that easy comparison, the creature's ability to adapt to various foods and biomes brings to mind a selection from Ernest Shackleton's epic "South" where he pontificates on the fact that, "...the palate of the human animal can adjust itself to anything. Some creatures will die before accepting a strange diet if deprived of their natural food. The Yaks of the Himalayan uplands must feed from the growing grass, scanty and dry though it may be, and would starve even if allowed the best oats and corn..." The adaptational skills he touts are exact type the raccoon employs to thrive in areas both populous and rural. Much of a raccoon's naturally preferred diet is derived from streams ponds, and lakes, part of what makes Madison a perfect home for them, and as such they have excellent maneuverability in the water. Despite their size they also can climb like greased lightning and can even traverse straight down the side of an obstacle by rotating their hind paws 180 degrees! Add on top of this, they can distinguish each-other by the markings they bare around the eyes which also act as sunglasses (glare reduction) and camouflage! Wow! Bet you didn't know all of that.

One can most likely see that the writer has a deep and effected appreciation for raccoons, but that respect isn't engendered by anatomical adaptation or from a diverse diet. Instead it comes down to one word: scrappy. Raccoons are scrappy. My trusty old Merriam-Webster defines scrappy as, "Having an aggressive and determined spirit," and I tend to agree. Why overcomplicate it? Scrappy is resolve, scrappy is commitment, scrappy is the way I'd like to live my life from here on out. I don't see any other way to be. So, get scrappy with me. Find that passion to pursue with fervor. And remember the raccoon, cause there might be a day where you have to rely on your instincts to stay the course and survive.