My husband and I married in 1966 and as soon as we could, that same year, we bought some land. We found 16 acres that had been part of a dairy farm, and a few years later, we bought an adjoining 10 acres. Thirty years later, the area had grown by leaps and bounds, and we just happened upon a small town in an out of the way spot that seemed like 40 years back in time, so we immediately put our place up for sale and found a "dream come true" piece of land on a bayou and bought it. It was on a dead end road that turned off of another dead end road,and the road ended at our gate. The first time I laid eyes on it, I knew it was "my" place.

It was an old home site, but the house had burned down years before. Few traces of previous occupants remained, but there were a couple of rings in two old oaks near the bayou where someone's hammock had once been. I put my hammock there, and would often sit and watch the bayou and listen to the birds.

One day, to my surprise, a big hog came walking along, following a path along the bayou. I have horses, so I got a pan of horse feed and left it on the path.

I never saw the hog again, but that is how I came to start feeding the raccoons. Eventually I was spending about $200 a month buying dog food for them and almost every night, I would sit out and watch them come to eat.

I was able to identify many of them, and I gave them names. Rascal, Upsy Daisy, Cripsy, Cancun and many others. Cancun was a special favorite. The first to take a treat from my hand. A year or so later, she had babies in the hollow tree by the hammock.

She would bring them out in the afternoon and take them to the water's edge. One of the sweetest things I ever saw was her asleep in the tree branches...the babies nestled around her. She had one hand holding an upper branch for support and a baby was cuddled next to her, under her upheld arm.

Cancun would come in the house if she got a chance, grab something out of the pantry and run out with it and climb a tree. She was my favorite. I couldn't get mad at her.

Upsy Daisy was another favorite. We used to buy honey buns by the case. I liked them because they were heavy and dense and we could break them in pieces and throw them to the raccoons.

One night, we were watching the raccoons, and a raccoon came running up to the group. She stopped and stood up on her hind legs, to better see what was going on. Jody threw her a piece of honey bun. She ate it and stood up again, and he threw her another piece. I named her Upsy Daisy, because pretty soon, every time she came to the group, I'd say, "Upsy Daisy" and she would pop up.

If she wasn't with the group, I could call her by name and she would come running, and immediately stand up, and always got her reward.

You could tell Upsy Daisy from the others because the way her mask drooped...besides the fact that she always would stand up to get a treat.

She even got so she could catch it in her hands, while standing up. Pretty good for an animal whose hands won't rotate quite like ours. She would have an intent look on her face...reminded me of a baseball player, as she stood up waited to catch a piece of honey bun.

Another favorite was Rascal. One of my favorite memories of her was when I was sitting in a chair watching the raccoons, and she came and sat beside me, and the mosquitoes were bad, and she was scratching her legs. She looked up at me as if to say, "Aren't these mosquitoes awful?!"

The raccoons would come up and take treats from my hand. I have hand fed just about every kind of animal imaginable, but one thing about raccoons,they take a treat from you so gently. A dog might snatch it and a cat might claw you trying to get a favorite treat, but a wild raccoon will always take it tenderly from your hand.

One night I was feeding Cancun some cake, and I had frosting on my fingers and she licked the frosting off, as gently as if licking it from her own hands.

One night, just as the raccoons were coming to eat, two big dogs came running up. I tried to run them off, but they attacked one of the smaller raccoons. I knew who they belonged to, and I rushed to their house and told them to come get the dogs before I killed them. They said, "Kill them. We don't care."

I went back and shot the rifle to scare them away. I don't know how many raccoons they killed and how many they scattered. The next night, no raccoons came. I couldn't face the fact that so many of the raccoons were gone, and we never sat outside to watch them again.

I continued to put out food for the raccoons, and I would see a few coming to eat, but I didn't wait to see which ones.

I felt like the sparkle was gone from the place. I cried for about 6 weeks. Seems like every time you have something that you enjoy, something will happen to ruin it.

Eventually, quite a few raccoons would come to eat, and I even raised some babies. And when I would pour out the dogfood for the coons, I'd see them coming down the trail alongside the bayou, but never would I stay to watch.

I would see Audrey, one of the babies I raised, almost every night. She would come to the back door for a handout, and I almost always kept grapes for her. When I started rehabbing possums, I fed them all yogurt every day, and Audrey found out she liked yogurt better than grapes.

When I would give her yogurt, I'd call it "La Crema", and that is how I'd call her some nights..."Audrey!! La Crema!!"

Sometimes I didn't have to call her and she would see me out there feeding the possums and she would come up to me, and I would always go get her some "la crema". My mother had taught me that when you train an animal, you should never disappoint it. If you tell it you are going to give it something, do it. So, I always reward her for coming up to me.

I have no near neighbors, and Audrey lives in my back yard. I don't worry about her just walking up to anyone. In fact, I have found that the raccoons won't come up to anyone else, and won't even come to me, if someone else is with me, other than Jody.

Even though we didn't sit out and watch the raccoons, we could look over and see them eating in a long line, where we poured out the food.

One raccoon was bigger than all the rest. I name everything, and in my mind, I called that one "the old man." You could tell it had some age on it.

I have the possum cages quite a distance from the bayou, and one night last summer, I was feeding them. The cages are under a giant, old live oak. I looked up to see "the old man" right above my head.

As soon as I saw "him"...I knew who it was. It was Cancun!!! She is now going on 14 years old...and she was there all along. She looks terrific for her age, very big and last year, she had a litter of babies. I know because every year when she has babies, in the same hollow tree, she wears the fur off of her backside, above her tail. I am sure it is a tight fit for her in there, Once the babies are big enough to leave her den, her hair grows back.

You may wonder how a person can tell one raccoon from another. They do have differences in their masks and markings, but mostly, once you get to know them,you don't forget them. I guess she didn't forget me either, because it was she who would made "contact" with me.

It's very funny though. Now every time I see her, I say, "Cancun!!!" and she will turn and go bouncing away. As if to say, "I don't have time for you any more, but I just wanted you to know that I am still here!"

It is wrong to put human emotions on animals, but an innocent enough past time when you just enjoy watching them.

I have many pics of Audrey eating yogurt...

When you don't give her any quick enough, she doesn't mind serving herself...she has knocked over the carton and is standing at a little table I used for potting plants, balancing herself on a container of potting soil.

***I wrote this three years ago. Cancun is still here and Audrey is still here also. Audrey is 11 now, I think. She has come up to me twice in the last week for yogurt. I hope next time I see her, I can get another picture of her.