When I was young, about 4 or 5, we had a pet raccoon. His name was bandit, and we must have had him for some time, because I cannot remember when we got him. He lived in a dog house beneath an old oak tree. He was on a chain tethered to the ground on one of those things that twist in to the ground.

I amor to help feed Bandit, we feed him dog food, and he would dip each piece in his watering disk before he would eat each one. Bandit was a very gentle raccoon and loved for people to pet him, and would climb on to your shoulder. Now my father and uncles would keep their cigarette pack rolled up...