The Marshmallow Tree and Binky's Big Adventures

The problem with spending so much time at the cottage is that I come back with far too many photos. OK, so it's not a serious problem. I know what to do with them - post them here, of course.


What? You've never seen a marshmallow tree before? They only bloom at night, and only by the glow of the campfire. By day, the mallows mysteriously disappear shortly after the young raccoons begin exploring.



Speaking of which, remember Bubbles? She's maturing nicely, don't you think?






She's a little bit shy, but as gentle as can be with her human friends. She now spends her full time up at the cottage (no more going home when Theresa departs for a few days or a week) and all night out on her own to forage for food. She still comes around to the deck for occasional muchies and a bit of socializing. She allows us to hand feed her if we wish, taking cat food from our hands very gently, and she'll accept petting while she eats. She's become a lovely little lady.

Sadly, her banana-eating baby brother Bayley disappeared a few weeks ago, never to return. He was much too young to survive on his own and I'd like to think that some other kind soul found him and cared for him. He was such a sweetie and sorely missed.


About a week after his disappearance, Theresa acquired a new kit named Binky. She's much younger than either of the other two but she thinks she's top dog in the raccoon world. She's a wild little hellion who is part Tasmanian devil and part angel. Binky loves to bite - not aggressively but more like a puppy needs to gnaw on things. Those things happen to be hands and faces.



She's also very dependent on her humans right now, and almost always seeks out a lap in which to settle, groom and fall blissfully asleep. (Photo credit goes to Frank)



She also likes to climb, as any self-respecting raccoon would.



But until recently she was afraid to come back down and needed coaxing. The first time she climbed a tree, it took her at least a half hour to climb down - inch by inch. Once she was finally close enough to grab, she nuzzled into my arms and fell deeply asleep on my lap. That's when I fell deeply in love with her.


One morning, I decided to go for a walk. Theresa's sheepdog, Duncan and Benny tagged along willingly. This was in September, after most folks were no longer up in cottage country - at least not during the week. Benny isn't very road smart and I'm always nervous that someone will drive around one of the curves or over the top of a hill when the dogs are trotting up ahead, so I keep a steady eye on them. We had already walked the long road which leads from the cottage to the main dirt road, when I turned away from the dogs to look glance behind me. I saw something in the middle of the road and it was moving our way...




Not one to be left behind, Binky had followed us up the hill and was trailing behind us on the main road. This photo was taken the next day on the side road when she followed us yet again. And again, every time we attempted to take a walk. If she wasn't so tiny, I'd just let her trot after us but she's much too small to be easily seen by a driver coming over a hill or around a bend. She just as readily followed us back to the cottage each time. Really, this little girl is going to have to learn that she's actually a raccoon.



But for now, we're more than happy to offer her food, warmth, comfort and love. There's plenty of time to grow up and learn the harsh realities of being wild.

Binky won't be released this year. She was hand raised for the few weeks before Theresa got her and she's still much too young to make it on her own. When Theresa brings her home, she settles in with her cats. They all sleep on the same bed. It looks like it's going to be a cozy winter for Miss Binky.

By the Shore

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore…
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
W. B. Yeats

Earlier this month, when we planned for a few days up at the cottage, Environment Canada was being a big party pooper. Their long-range forecast warned of cool, rainy weather for the full time we hoped to be there, beginning with the three-hour drive up on the Tuesday. Thoughts of rainy fishing days and wet, empty hammocks prevailed. Gone was the hope of a campfire each evening and long walks devoid of pesky mosquitoes. We packed for all kinds of weather and card games, and went anyway.

Upon arrival, we were greeted with only stray gray wisps of cloud in an otherwise blue sky. Also greeting us were Frank's sister, her husband and their brother in law. We spent the afternoon sitting and chatting on the dock where the grand total of four raindrops touched my skin. The rest of our visit was met with mostly sunny skies, warm days and comfortable nights. I love it when meteorologists are wrong like that.

Theresa's usual menagerie accompanied her. Her kittens (found abandoned within a day or two after their birth - umbilical cords still attached) Luca and Sambuca are now a few months old and are at that incredibly cute stage where they have to play with everything - all night long. The critters, having been separated from their mother at such an early age, still have a strong sucking and kneading urge.

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When Luca is tired, he climbs up onto his blanket, then kneads and sucks it until he falls asleep. Similarly, Sambuca settles in and grabs his own tail to suck on. They're incredibly cute.

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Her big, beautiful sheep dog, Duncan was there. And so were 6 baby squirrels which Theresa is raising to maturity. Add Benny to that mix and we had quite the activity level at times.

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Of course Sugar and Spike were around in the evenings too.

By the following afternoon, Frank, Benny and I were alone at the cottage. Being the incurable romantic that Frank is, it wasn't long before he had that irresistible gleam in his eye. He sidled closer to me, cupped my chin in his hand and looked deeply into my eyes so that there was no mistaking what he wanted me to do next. "Sweetie, the worms are on the lower shelf of the back room fridge. Grab them for me, willya?" Yeah, he's hot when he's got fishin' on his mind.

Between the two of us, we grabbed the worms, rods, tackle boxes, vests, PFDs, hats, sunglasses, sunscreen, the cooler should we get lucky (by now you'll have figured out that means "if we should catch something") and various other paraphernalia which might come in handy at some point. We grabbed Benny and put him in the cottage and then headed out for a couple of hours of fishing.

The eagles' nest was empty more often than not, that week, but we did see them flying around at various times of the day.

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One drive-by with the boat proved worthwhile when we saw one of the adults perched proudly atop its nest.

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Another time we noticed him on a branch which topped a tree within clear, but distant view of the cottage.

Our fishing luck was pretty much in keeping with the rest of the summer - poor. About mid-week, one of our trips out in the boat resulted in two catches.

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This bass was one of them. It was released back into the lake immediately after the photo was taken.

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That same day, I also caught this walleye which became our lunch the next afternoon. Yum!

Some afternoons were too clear and breeze-free for fishing, so we each got some reading done out on that dock.

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Benny was happy to just lounge around nearby, but kept a watchful eye to to be sure we didn't make moves to get into the boat.

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Occasionally, he'd wander over to the edge of the dock to check out that twin JRT in the water. And yes, he fell in once or twice while going after it.

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Nearby, colourful clothespins on the line caught my eye.

Nighttime comes sooner at this time of year, and shortly after securing the boat and returning worms to the fridge, Frank would build a fire.

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He's been referred to as the Fish Whisperer, Dog Whisperer, Tree Whisperer and probably more, but after three or four nights of perfect campfires, he is also most definitely the Flame Whisperer.

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Just look at that baby burn!

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A last glance or two out on the water just before all colour disappeared from the sky. Weakening ripples gently lapped the shore.

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The night sky descends to kiss the last shades of the sun goodnight.

The small photo at the top, is of the cottage as seen from the boat on the way back from an afternoon of fishing. Please click on it to enlarge.

Where the Wild Thing Aren't

Earlier this month, we arrived at the cottage armed with information about how to feed Sugar and Spike during our stay. For those of you who may not remember these critters by name, they are the orphaned raccoon kits which were found under my deck this past April. They are now living outdoors full time but still rely on the kindness of their human friends to feed them. The trick is to fatten them up sufficiently to make it through the winter. Their evening meal consists of dry cat food and just about any scrap left over from our own day's meals. And fish guts. They really like fish guts - the heads, tail and innards left over from filleting the day's catch.

Early that evening we went to their feeding spot a few yards/meters away from the cottage, but still within its sight. We poured out their food and returned to the cottage. Not more than a half hour passed and one little raccoon ambled over to it and started eating.

I wandered out to him. He kept a wary eye on me but continued shoveling food into his mouth. At one point he came over to me and nudged my hand with his nose. That was it for our interaction for the night.

The following afternoon, Benny alerted Frank to some whining noises coming from the nearby tree. Glancing up, he saw these two adorable faces watching them.

There was a third larger and presumably older raccoon on a higher branch but he or she only presented us with a bushy, striped tail. It was an encouraging sight to see that they had hooked up with a more mature raccoon who might be able to teach them how to fish and hunt for themselves. Later that day, when I brought their food outside, Spike came bounding over to me, put his paws on my leg and looked straight into my eyes. The face that greeted me had porcupine quills on the left side.

We looked him over and he didn't appear to be in pain. His appetite was good but Frank decided to call his sister Theresa - the raccoons' adoptive Mom for advice. Her solution was to drive up to the cottage the next day, figuring that only she would be able to hold him while Frank took the pliers to the quills and pull them out. Spike allowed me to pet him and scratch his head while he ate.

Theresa arrived with her sister, Lisa the following afternoon.

Accompanying them were Luca

and Sambuca

- two adorable 10 week old (approximately) kittens which were found abandoned and brought to Theresa with their umbilical cords still attached. This is what they looked like when I first saw them in the middle of June.

Now they're bright, healthy, well-adjusted kittens which appear normal in every way, despite never having had a feline mother. Benny loved playing with them and they were used to Theresa's dogs, so they let him discover, mother and practically smother them with kisses. Benny was beside himself with excitement. This video, which is less than a minute in length will give you an idea of how they interacted.

Lisa's beautiful dog, Oona was much more placid and nonchalant about the whole thing.

Theresa also brought Hailey, who was the newest member of her adoptive family. Can you figure out what she is? Give it some thought. I'll keep on talking.

Hailey was just a few days old when somebody found her on her driveway. She was brought to Theresa who fed her every 45 minutes during the day and a bit less frequently through the night.

She was pink-bellied, hairless and incredibly cute. (The following three videos are less than 30 seconds each.)

She was fed with a syringe,

stimulated to assist with elimination

and kept very warm, wrapped up next to a heater. By the second or third day, she became more active, began to sprout whisker and started making vocal sounds. The second to last day we were there, she began to bloat a bit. Her energy level diminished some and her vocalization was softer. Her appetite was still good but she just didn't seem right. Sadly, on the last night we were there, she died.

She had a short, little life without great chance of survival, but Hailey the squirrel had most certainly been loved.

Back to Spike. Theresa was able to pull most of the quills out by hand while he was eating.

Only one was painful enough to cause him to nip at her hand but the rest, he hardly noticed. He looked as handsome as ever when she was done. I love how he tends to hold the bowl in place with one of his back feet while shoveling in food with the front.

Spike, despite being the shy kit early on, has become the more adventurous and affectionate one of the pair. He's been known to enter the cottage through an open window and dine on peaches which he robbed from the kitchen counter. Once, Theresa woke up to discover that he'd made his way into the cottage, and climbed into her bed to cuddle with her. He was right beside her, gazing at her and touching her face. He's also becoming destructive, having torn through a screen window or two. I have concerns that the surrounding cottage-dwellers won't have any idea that these two are semi-tame and they might fear their friendliness as a sign of rabies, but Theresa plans to let others know about Sugar and Spike so they can just let them be, and maybe even offer up a meal now and again.

It was a lovely, restful time spent with wonderful people and adorable creatures.

Stay tuned and in a few days I'll post some photos of some of the wilder critters we encountered.