The Raccoon Who Chose Me 🦝

Peter has always called me Snow White. I can hold squirrels, hand-feed chipmunks, and apparently — injured raccoons find me in my hammock.
I was laying there thinking it was Peter and Olive coming back from their walk when something scratched at me. It wasn’t them.
It was a raccoon. With porcupine quills in its face and arms, clearly in pain and scared. And somehow, out of everywhere it could have gone — it found me.
I did what I could. I sat with it. I talked to it. I tried to calm it and guide it somewhere safer. It let me. That trust meant everything.
Rest easy, little friend. I hope you’re okay out there. 🌿Read more