Back when I was just a few weeks from my high school graduation, our family dog got into a fight with a raccoon in our yard.
At first, my father thought that Flurry was hurting a neighborhood cat, so he went outside and somehow managed to separate them. When he realized it was a raccoon, he trapped it in a garbage can.
When this happens, you call and have the raccoon taken away to be tested. You get your dog a rabies booster, just in case. But you sort of think that’s where the story will end.
Then the phone rings, and the voice on the other end tells you the raccoon had rabies. Everything changes.
My father, two brothers, and I had all handled Flurry after the fight, so we had to go for rabies shots. Flurry had to be quarantined for 90 days, interacting with just a couple of people in the family and not encountering any other pets. My dad built a creative structure in the backyard that allowed Flurry to be outside but enclosed. And we began a long quarantine for our dog at the house we had just moved into about a month or so earlier.
I have told that story many times over the years—and I assume my parents and siblings have, too. When you have to think of an unexpected fact to share about yourself, getting rabies shots is a pretty good one.
The other day, my brother reached out to ask me whether I knew what day the fight happened. He remembered that it was the 30th anniversary this year, which makes sense because I just celebrated my 30th high school reunion. But I’m not sure when it happened since it’s been a few decades. It was probably during May.
As I look back on that time, though, what strikes me the most is that my parents were about the age I am now. They were amazing during what had to be an extremely scary time, navigating all kinds of unexpected issues. I definitely do not feel equipped to handle anything along these lines. For starters, I have no idea how to get a raccoon into a trashcan.
But at the time, it made sense that my parents could handle all of it. When you’re a child, your parents are so wise and knowledgeable.
They were getting us medical care and dealing with a complicated situation where some of the shots were ruined. They were getting the Department of Natural Resources on the phone. They were researching rabies at a time when research wasn’t a Google search in the palm of your hand. They were watching to see whether our dog showed any rabies symptoms.
They were also preparing to celebrate my high school graduation and my sister’s college graduation—and managing everything you handle when you have six children, just moved into a new house a few weeks prior, and are still trying to sell your old house.
It boggles the mind what parents can do. Somehow in my memories, they were so much older and wiser than I am now. Today, I have a high schooler myself—and another one heading that way next year—and I am still waiting for the wisdom to kick in.
Fortunately, Flurry stayed rabies-free, and so did the rest of the family. The rest of the springtime went off without a hitch. My parents still live in that house 30 years later. My father still has the trashcan he used to trap the raccoon. And we all have a story to share.
