CONDON’S CORNER
On Mother’s Day: Lessons from A Mama Raccoon
© 2025 Marlene A. Condon All Rights Reserved
“On Mother’s Day: Lessons from A Mama Raccoon”
My mother, who is now deceased, was always there for
her children. She didn’t excuse or condone anyone’s bad behavior or the poor
choices they made in life, but she didn’t nag about it and was always right
there to help us when needed.
Her behavior represents to me the true meaning of a
mother’s love. You could do something
stupid, such as when one of my older brothers totaled his car by speeding and
losing control of it (thank goodness he wasn’t seriously injured), but he knew
he could call home and my mother would come to get him and help him to deal
with the situation.
On this Mother’s Day, I’d like to offer a tribute to
all moms, whether they be human, or not! I’ve amassed fascinating accounts of wildlife
behavior that I feel can provide valuable, insightful lessons for folks. Herewith,
a couple of those accounts that might guide you on your own journey through
life.
Tough love.
When people have children, they sometimes find it
difficult to make responsible adults out of them. When your heart is full of
love, it can be emotionally painful to take the steps necessary to, for
example, push your children “out of the nest” to make their own way in life.
Yet, it’s vitally important that you practice “tough
love”, when necessary, to accomplish this goal as it’s the whole point of parenting.
A mama raccoon can illustrate how it’s done and why it’s so essential for her
kits (and your children) to “grow up” when the time is right.
Young raccoons are born helpless (like human babies)
in spring and are completely dependent upon “mom” for survival (the dads, like
some human ones, are absentee fathers not involved in raising their young
because, unlike with humans, they needn’t assist). She provides them with warmth,
mother’s milk, and protection from harm.
At about three months of age, they begin to be
weaned from her milk and to learn crucial survival skills by accompanying her
as she travels around seeking food and shelter. It takes many months for the
kits to master these activities, but (in our area of Virginia), they have grown
enough and are ready enough by the following spring to become independent.
 |
Contrary to popular belief, animals most active at night do sometimes come out in the daytime if it’s hot and they’re thirsty, or because they didn’t find enough to eat overnight. Here two young raccoons get a drink from the “birdbath” pan on the author’s deck. |
However, like some human children, they don’t feel
confident to leave their mother. They continue to follow her, but she is
pregnant and knows she can’t continue to take care of this older brood along
with a new one. Consequently, she’s forced to employ tough love. As the kits
try to share food or be close to her, she angrily barks or snaps at them.
Yes, you can recognize emotion in animal voices.
After all, the mama raccoon needs to make clear that the kits are no longer
welcome and must move away. How else to convey that message other than by the
very same emotional tones we humans employ?
This heartbreaking scenario is difficult to witness;
you feel sorry for the young animals that so obviously do not want to leave
their mom. But you know intellectually that those kits are ready to behave as
adults so life can be perpetuated.
Love in its purest
form.
While you might feel the mama raccoon in this story
is cruel or heartless, I can say I’ve witnessed a mother raccoon exhibiting
great patience and love for her baby.
Years ago, I had a Chimney Swift box placed on a tall radio tower in my yard. My hope was this species would use the box for nesting. That situation never happened, but a female raccoon decided one year to use the box as a den for her babies.
 |
| This “Chimney Swift” box (never used by that bird species) on the radio tower by the author’s driveway served as a raccoon den one year. |
One day I heard a plaintive cry (I have microphones
outside my house for research) that indicated an animal in distress. I
immediately looked out and saw a small, young raccoon running around in circles
at the base of the tower, obviously quite distraught. I realized it must have
fallen from the box and I felt helpless. I couldn’t possibly catch it nor get
it back to the box (about 20 feet off the ground), even if I could!
But not to worry. I noticed the mother raccoon
calmly climbing down the tower to retrieve her baby. Just as you see a mother
cat do, she picked up the young-un by the scruff of its neck and made the
arduous journey back up the tower—a vertical climb made quite difficult by the
force of gravity—carrying that baby by her teeth.
 |
A mama raccoon carries her kit back to the den box it had fallen from, 20 feet straight up a radio tower in the author’s yard. |
It was a stupendous feat, illustrating a mother’s
love, devotion, and concern for her offspring. I see my own mother in this
raccoon’s dedication to her family, as the raccoon seemed to simply do what she
knew had to be done. That’s love in its purest form.
DISCLAIMER:
Ads appearing at the end of e-mail blog-post notifications are posted by follow.it as recompense for granting free usage of their software at the author's blog site. The author of this blog has no say in what ads are posted and receives no monetary compensation other than the use of the software.
No comments:
Post a Comment