Those folks who realized that “racoon” is an anagram of “corona” — making this hand-washing, mask-wearing procyonid the absolutely perfect animal for the COVID-19 epidemic — have too much time on their hands. And a warped idea of what matters.
I know what would make this all worthwhile.
If only we had a pandemic mascot!
Actually, I’m just jealous. My brain doesn’t do anagrams: I don’t see new words arising from others.
But I wouldn’t have seen this one anyway, because my spelling impulse is “raccoon,” which puts me solidly in the majority, apparently, but not any more in the right.
I’m not a big fan of garbage-tipping, soffit-ripping, bird-nest-destroying raccoons — however spelled and like they care — but I don’t mind them in their place: which place is somewhere far away in the countryside, preferably, as opposed to right here in my backyard.
But, and a hat tip to the Big Guy for the spot, I not only saw a whole racoon/raccoon family in our backyard — well, I’m guessing a single-mother household — I was able to get a few shots.
The lights are on but nobody’s home.
And if someone is home, you do not want to talk to them.
But the scientific literature takes a different view.
Raccoons are noted for their intelligence,
with studies showing that they are able
to remember the solution to tasks for up to three years.
I wasn’t able to verify this claim with a pop quiz, but I did note their phenomenal climbing ability. Even the weans made it up and over our chain-link fence pretty smartly when mom said it was time to go.
Never mind how I feel about the adults. What I think of as a hard-wired appreciation of infants exposes its insidious nature yet again: Yes, even raccoon babies are cute.