Originally Posted by
Karen
Awww! When I was a kid, my (unrelated, technically) relatives in upstate NY raised two orphaned raccoons after their mother was hit by a car. They were full grown and huge by the time we were out there for our annual summer visit, and no one had told me about them yet. We were all eating dinner crowded around the table as usual when I suddenly felt a cold little hand reach into my sneaker, right under the arch of my foot. I am incredibly ticklish and froze in place, fork mid-air. Without even looking down, Uncle Charles said in a gruff voice "Mister Coon, cut it out. Git outta there!" The little hand withdrew and out from under the table waddled "Mister" and looked embarrassed at being caught! "Missy" also like to lurk under tables and untie sneaker laces while we ate!
