The Story of an Indomitable Little Raccoon
by Bonnie Brown
Those who rescue and rehabilitate wildlife will tell
you that while each animal helped is unique, every year, there are one or two whose
circumstances and characters make them truly unforgettable. For me this year, one such
animal was a tiny raccoon with a big problem. First, I will tell you how I came to know
this special animal and then I will tell you her story.
Last year, I had the good fortune of being able to retire early from the federal
government. After a few months of sleeping late, traveling, and compiling lists of
household tasks to catch up on, I decided it was time to seek out some new meaningful
activities. In March, at an introductory class in wildlife rehabilitation offered by the
Wildlife Rescue League, I learned that wildlife rehabilitators need help caring for
injured and orphaned wild animals. I volunteered. When asked what types of animals I'd
like to work with, I said mammals, particularly raccoons. I then had the required series
of rabies pre-exposure shots, got my Virginia Category IV (care provider) Wildlife
Rehabilitator Permit and began helping Erika Yery care for raccoons at her home. Erika
specializes in rehabilitating rabies vector species (raccoons, bats, foxes, skunks, and
groundhogs); is the founder of Wild Bunch Rehabilitation; and, this year, cared for nearly
30 orphaned raccoons at one time in her home. One of these was the little raccoon
mentioned earlier.
Late one July evening, Erika received a call advising her that a baby raccoon was at a
Northern Virginia animal hospital. The baby was a female, about 3 weeks old, her eyes just
opening. She weighed 13 ounces. As with many of the wild orphans, this one's history was
unknown. We named her Burgundy after the section of Alexandria she had come from but
nicknamed her the "little girl". Two other young raccoons arrived separately
soon after. They became the little girl's new raccoon family.
We soon noticed that while the other two were quite active, the little girl was not. When
she did start moving around, we saw that she was not using her right hind leg. Erika
called Dr. Anne Hiss, who is both a rehabber and a veterinarian. Dr. Hiss examined the
little raccoon and said that there was a good reason why she wasn't walking well -- her
right hip was broken! Dr. Hiss said that the best course of action in an animal this
young, including a puppy or a kitten, would be to let the bones heal. She said that young
bones heal quickly and that we should bring the little girl back in a few weeks for x-rays
to see how the bones had healed. During this time, the little girl and her companions were
moved from their cage in the house to a small outdoor cage. The little girl continued to
appear fragile while her two companions grew more robust. And though she had become quite
active, she still greatly favored her back right leg. A few weeks after her first vet
visit, the little girl went back to Dr. Hiss for x-rays. Seeing that there was still a
problem, Dr. Hiss consulted with Dr. Anke Langenbach, a veterinary surgeon with the Dulles
Care Group. The two vets recommended that the little girl have an ominous sounding
orthopedic surgical procedure called a femoral head ostectomy (FHO). Dr. Langenbach
volunteered to perform the surgery.
We quickly learned everything we could about the FHO procedure. We found that FHOs have
been performed for many years on cats and small dogs to alleviate often severe pain
associated with injured or diseased hips. In the procedure, the femoral head ( the ball
part of the hip joint) is removed and the bone (the femur) is smoothed so that there is no
bone-to-bone contact between the pelvis, which contains the now empty hip socket, and the
remaining part of the femur. A false joint forms, consisting of scar tissue around the end
of the bone, supported by the large muscle mass around the hip. Post surgical results (in
cats and dogs) are affected by a number of factors. For example, younger, smaller, and
more active, well muscled animals recover faster and more completely than animals that are
older, heavier, and more sedentary. In addition, we were told that animals whose guardians
provide them with an aggressive medical rehabilitation program following the FHO will have
better function and less stiffness than those left to recover on their own.
It seemed illogical to us that such a procedure could work but Dr. Langenbach said that in
most cases, a pain-free, active life could be expected. We were quite anxious about how
things would turn out for the little girl, especially since we were unable to find reports
of any raccoons who had had an FHO.
Dr. Langenbach performed the FHO on the now six pound little girl in October. Somewhat
apprehensive, we arrived at the veterinary hospital to take the little girl home just a
few hours after the surgery. She was alert and active. We were especially amazed to watch
her walk easily across the exam table, using all her legs, including the one that now had
no hip joint. Not all of Dr. Langenbach's post surgery report was good, however. She said
that she had been surprised to discover during the operation that a large part of the
little girl's femoral head had been eaten away. Dr. Langenbach did a culture and biopsy.
After an additional anxious two weeks, we were very relieved to learn that the results of
both were negative -- no bone cancer. Dr. Langenbach concluded that the little girl's
initial problem had been caused by trauma that resulted in an infection which had
ultimately been overcome by her immune system.
Following the surgery, the little girl was given pain medication and a course of
antibiotics. Dr. Langenbach's post surgery instructions were to keep her quiet for a few
days and not to let her climb for two weeks. We expected this to be a challenge but had no
idea how big a one it would be given the little girl's ingenuity and determination. The
little girl was moved back inside the house to a small cage downstairs in Erika's animal
room. We hoped that in two weeks, she would be able to rejoin her raccoon family in their
outdoor cage. The plan was to bring her up to the kitchen to be fed and given supervised
exercise twice a day. The little girl, however, had other ideas. In the early days
following her surgery, we were startled several times to see the little girl who was
supposed to be in her cage downstairs suddenly appear in an upstairs room. When she first
appeared in the living room, we discovered that she had figured out a way to get out of
her small, no climbing cage. We put her in a stronger cage. She next appeared in the
kitchen. Both cages had housed many raccoons without incident over the years. Erika
suggested that we rename her "Houdini".
Dr. Langenbach had recommended that we perform "light, passive physical therapy"
on the little girl, flexing and extending her hip twice a day in the weeks following the
surgery to prevent adhesions and to encourage a fuller range of motion. We were warned
that this would be uncomfortable for the little girl. Only a few months earlier, I had
been pleased to learn how to bottle feed a baby raccoon; now I would learn how to do
raccoon physical therapy. The little girl accepted the therapy sessions with her usual
good nature.
The little girl went back to see Dr. Langenbach a
week after her surgery. The following week, she rejoined her companions in their outdoor
cage. She seemed pleased to be back socializing with her family, climbing continually,
reclaiming her favorite hammock, playing with toys, and eating walnuts and other treats.
Except for her scar, shaved fur, and still small physique, she looks and acts much like
her companions. They have since been moved to a larger outdoor cage at Erika's and have
been joined by two other raccoons their age. The five will be cared for through the
winter. In the spring, we fully expect that the little girl will be among them when it is
time for them to reclaim their wild lives and be released.
For me, this has been a memorable, rewarding year. And the delicate but resilient little
girl has been a big part of it. |