Exotic Pets

In the state of Florida in order to possess certain exotic animals you have to have a permit. Animals like skunks and raccoons and monkeys fall in this category. We happen to be the proud parents of three skunks. My question is: just because you have the Class III permit do we REALLY need to use it like we do? Let me explain:

Skunks are not easy pets in terms of care. You can't just spoon out a can of dog food and walk away. There are vitamins and mineral supplements, there's a diet that must be varied so you don't suddenly have a picky eater on your hands, there's constant vigilance in regards to dental health and coat health that is a daily, never ending process. So, having skunks, we think we know it all. What fools!

Whenever anyone has a pet, this animal could be in distress or unwanted they call my fiance and I. We might as well put our number in the phone book as: The Sucker Hotline. We've nursed back to health and found new homes for more furry critters than I'd care to think about. Anything from pet rats, to ferrets, to rabbits, to guinea pigs, to pot bellied pigs, to any species of bird, and skunks. And now we have the kicker tearing up our carpet: a raccoon.

My fiance had said in the past that he'd love to have one. I told him I hope he and his new girlfriend would be very happy with their new pet. And that, I thought, settled that. But my fiance, ever the sucker for a hard luck story God love him, somehow manages to get his wish without finding himself homeless and without a fiance. He reeled me in on the suckerdom.

This is how it happpened: Gary's (my fiance) coworker had a family of raccoons living in his attic. He was able, this industrious coworker, to humanely trap and release the parents. The babies were in an inaccessible part of his tiny Florida attic. For two weeks the raccoons stayed in the attic, too small to care for themselves, slowly starving and dying of thirst. And then one of them decides to venture out. He rolls down the coworkers roof and falls into the bushes unharmed. The coworker finds the baby raccoon scratching at his window on one side and his cat scratching on the other side of the window. Thus distracted he's able to scoop the baby up into a fishing net. And who does he call first? Why, the King of All Chumps my fiance!

The coworker begs Gary to take the raccoon. Knowing he could wind up single if he brings one more furry, non-job having animal into this house he tries to tell him no (I'm SO sure!) at which point the coworker explains that the baby is too small to fend for himself so he can't release him and if Gary won't take him he'll have no choice but to euthanize him. Enter violins: here. All engines full stop. Next thing I know I've got a snarling, snapping, growling, tiny, tiny, tiny little bundle of meanness raging in a cage in my garage. My fiance is too stupid to hide his glee. I'm too stupid not to fall in love with the little bundle of fur and sharp teeth. We're a pair of imbeciles if ever there was a pair.

So we begin the exhaustive research process. Luckily we have friends who are VERY pet knowledgeable and when they don't know they know who does. Luckily we have high speed internet access. We discover that we're already covered under our current permit to have a raccoon in our home. Great. We find out what to feed him and begin bottle feeding him immediately adding in various liquids to restore his electrolytes. He does not like this. He's had a HORRIBLE day and all he wants to do is bite who he thinks is the cause of it. The first night is rough and filled with many a nip. As fortune would have it raccoons are naturally greedy pigs so by the next day getting him to accept the bottle is no problem. By the time my fiance comes home from work he's sitting in my lap snug as a bug making up for the meals he's been missing.

So now that we no longer have a snarling beast on our hands who is in danger of dying from starvation or massive dehydration we begin to look for a vet to check him out. Oddly enough this was the hardest part of the problem. Veterinarians generally love animals. All animals but raccoons it seems. Our regular vet, who we love and adore, who carries our skunk around her office and shows him off to people and kisses and hugs him and spoils him more rotten than he already is wouldn't even discuss seeing the raccoon. This worries me. We thought we'd have to travel almost 2 hours away to find someone to look at him but after much research and referral (much of which was incorrect by the way) we found a vet within forty five minutes of our home.

Clean bill of health for the baby we've now named "Rocky," not my choice but men do get stubborn about certain things at times and...but still there are choices to be made. If we keep Rocky and domesticate him it's going to be a LONG, LONG road. He is a wild animal. Would we be doing him a favor by keeping him with us and letting him live like a king and destroy our carpeting or would we be doing him an injustice by not letting him live his life naturally knocking over garbage cans and sleeping in trees? I know Gary has made up his mind but I'm still reserving judgment.

Rocky is still a little guy but he's smart. Frighteningly so. He potty trained himself. Now there's a convenience you can't buy at PetSmart! But o when he hits sexual maturity all will be different. Cute and cuddly? Right out the window. And here is where we would have to make a permanent decision. In order to keep a raccoon as a pet they must be spayed or neutered. They are powerful animals and get downright nasty when they're old enough to make more downright nasties in their image. If we neuter him he can never be returned to the wild. We've been told to expect a massive calming in his attitude should we choose to fix him. I say: can you blame him? But raccoons are still powerful and oft times destructive animals to keep as pets. And is it fair?

If we choose not to keep him there is a wonderful, WONDERFUL woman who does animal rescue who can rehab him to return to the wild. You don't just open your door and say: "Off you go, be free Rocky Raccoon!" Not quite. They must be taught how to be a wild animal again and this is something I'm willing to admit is beyond my scope of knowledge. But, as I said, we know a woman who devotes much of her life, if not ALL of her life to wildlife rescue and rehab. We have choices in front of us, much of which I think will be determined by Rocky himself. Hopefully all of us choose wisely.