My Aunt used to have a pet coon, and she was a wildlife rehabilitator for a while, and had a couple dozen coons at once. We might just leave him be, and leave him some dog food every now and then so he doesn’t starve. Last night I caught a big grasshopper/leaf lookin’ bug (can’t remember what they’re called) and threw it down in front of him and he ate it. So, he might catch some bugs and such to eat. We put out a cut off milk jug with water for him so he could have something to drink.
A little bit ago, Dad came home from work with some fried chicken from KFC and I went out to help him carry it. When I went out, the coon was still out there. He was on the porch and followed me to the truck. He smelled the fried chicken, and got up on his hind legs, leaning on my leg with his front legs sniffing. That made me nervous, because I was wearing shorts and didn’t want him to climb me like a tree. I said “NO.” and pulled the sack away from him and he got back on all fours and followed me back to the porch. Dad gave him some more dog food.
A couple years ago, several of our neighbors had pet coons, but he couldn’t be one of them because he’s too small.
