Are raccoons the cats and dogs of tomorrow?
The other night, my Bengal rescues were freaking out at the patio doors. This involves chirping, vertical leaps worthy of Dick Fosbury and banging on the glass like they are doing the drum solo from “In the Air Tonight.”
My kitchen is now Cirque du Soleil.
I walked in to see why Willow and Flynn were agitated. Two adorable baby raccoons were on the deck, staring inside with muted curiosity.
I felt guilty. My cats are pampered and these little masked mammalians are slugging it out in the urban wild? That may change in the future.
Some recent headlines: “City Raccoons Are Evolving to Look More Like Pets.” “City Raccoons Are Domesticating Themselves and Becoming Cuter In The Process.” “Study Suggests Raccoons Could Be On The Path To Becoming A Household Pet.”
The study, in the journal Frontiers in Zoology, tracked “domestication signals” in urban raccoons across North America. Researchers analyzed thousands of photos to “test whether exposure to human environments triggers a trait of the domestication syndrome.”
It’s a long paper. Let’s skip ahead to the conclusion: “(we) find that raccoons in close contact with densely populated human environments experience a reduction in snout length. Our data support the mechanistic pathway of the domestication syndrome outlined in the Neural Crest Domestication Syndrome hypothesis …”
Put another way: if celebrities were wild animals, pretend researchers analyzed photos of Jennifer Aniston after her nose job and concluded she was evolving to one day be housebroken. With those friendly eyes, shiny coat and wonderful temperament, she’d make a great pet.
But I’m not sure it’s wise for Darwin to turn raccoons into our fur dependents.
They are already too smart for us.
The modern-day raccoon is as sly as a fox. It is a cat burglar. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A snake in the grass. It is no birdbrain when it comes to monkey business.
The raccoons that visit my backyard after sundown are clearly in Mensa. One of those dexterous fingers on each paw might as well be an opposable thumb. These shadow bandits figured out a workaround on the strap I stretched across my black bin to keep them out. Nothing keeps them out. And now they want in?
I bet if I left a Ghost Cube under a tree, it would be solved by the morning.
Would you want a pet Rocket, Meeko or RJ right now? No way. Your sectional becomes a jungle gym. You’re at work and your new pet grabs an Allen wrench to dismantle the Billy Bookcase because it’s bored. Your eyes flutter open in the middle of the night and your new pet is wearing your underwear and watching you sleep while puffing on a cigarette.
Sure, Willow and Flynn may give me jump scares when they land on my shoulders from behind. But there is no way they are infecting me with rabies or roundworm. Sure, your dog can play fetch. But it can’t crank up a chainsaw and enter the living room as you are nervously watching “The Beast in Me.”
Raccoons are evolving into pets and you better guard your sandwich.
Even before this great replacement theory for cats and dogs, raccoons are outsmarting us. They watch. They learn. They scheme. You can never own a raccoon. The best you can hope for is peaceful coexistence until mating season — and then you will be owned.
The study suggests PetSmart might one day have a Raccoon Aisle that sells products such as Purina’s Frog-and-Watermelon puree. Will there be off-leash coon parks? Will vets need to wear chain-mail frocks to avoid getting gouged by those samurai claws before a neutering?
I guess the study makes scientific sense. Dogs evolved from wolves. House cats evolved from African wildcats. Russell Crowe evolved from a caveman who hissed and threw rocks. And now our trash pandas may one day answer to names such as Srichacha and Mohawk.
One birthday party, when my daughters were young, we had a company bring in a bunch of animals all the kids could hold in the presence of a trainer. You know what was weird? After a while, it didn’t seem weird to have this exotic menagerie in my living room.
But there’s a reason there was a sugar glider and no raccoon.
Let’s face it, those cunning dumpster divers are already adapting to our shared ecosystem faster than we are. They are sneaking onto the TTC and scaling skyscrapers. Meanwhile, I can’t climb a tree or forage for slugs.
Read that study and tell me you don’t believe raccoons are evolving at a frightening speed. They are not wasting away on social media. They are cracking the code to the keyless entry on your backdoor.
Once AI teaches raccoons to write, they will never confuse your and you’re.
Raccoons as pets? No. One day we will be their pets.
