the season continued:

Shabot and Hiway were quite content to be the only coonies at the orphanage. They didn't move in to the big coondo though. Hiway was okay with it for about three whole minutes but then started pacing like a basket case to get back to her mini-coondo. So I accomodated her.

The Lil Dood was the first intake to arrive. His chariot was the game warden's sports van. He was in a kitten kennel with a plastic bag of powdered lamb formula. He was caked from head to toe with powder. No water. So of course, first thing I did was get that plastic bag out of there and let him out. The game warden jumped back a bit and said "it's going to get away!!" I looked at him on the back of the love seat and said "he's not going anywhere". He asked if I was going to be able to fix the Lil Dood's foot. It was cut in half from being trapped in a pile of wood and hauled into the back of a semi. He'd apparently spent several days in that truck and chewed himself loose. No front teeth left on the little guy. Told the game warden it was going to take me longer to get the formula off him than fix his foot.

Good thing is, it healed beautifully. He has nothing more than a pink spot in the middle of the pad.

After a few weeks, a fawn came in. I decided to take him down to Bay Beach Wildlife Sanctuary as they had other fawns his age. Siblings or peers of same species are very important for wildlife. While at the Sanctuary I looked at their coonies to find a littermate for Lil Dood. Scruffing neonates, looking at em, and I heard 'oooooohhhh's and 'aaaahhhhh's. Turn and look over my shoulder and here's a big picture window of the visitors at the sanctuary watching. I felt like I was picking out a kitten or puppy, but realized I was probably the only one in the state picking out a litter of baby coonies at that moment. This calling has it's perks.

But alas. They were all too small for the Lil Dood. So he remained a single kit that day.