Just after 9 a.m. Thursday morning a good citizen of Toronto saw a dead raccoon on the sidewalk. He alerted the city’s contact centre to come get the animal.
The city responded 12 minutes later. Animal Services was notified, they said.
The poor raccoon would soon be taken away. Sad, but at least the system works.
But around noon the raccoon was still there. And someone put a note next to it.
People added flowers and a Sharpie so folks could sign a condolences card. It had been more than nine hours since the first tweet to the city.
Close to 8 p.m. the raccoon was still there. Flowers and cards continued to pile up.
The original raccoon spotter passed by again at 8:20 p.m. He tagged the city yet again to get service. His original tweet was posted almost 12 hours earlier.
Seriously, that poor raccoon.
With the city falling down on the job, the Greatest Tweeting Councillor took over. @Norm bugged the city again.
He thought of a fitting tribute to an animal that is renowned for its compost-bin opening prowess.
And then he dropped a Drake reference.
The raccoon and the seemingly spontaneous memorial to it elicited some strong reactions. @Norm saw an opportunity for humour in the face of municipal incompetence. Others were disgusted with how people treated the dead animal.
This guy thought it was sick and funny.
Though some thought the poor dead raccoon actually brought a city together.
As the night wore on, the raccoon was given a candlelight vigil.
A donation box appeared to help give the little fella a “proper burial.”
And then, just after 11 p.m., a city van pulled up. This freelance journalist was there to capture the historic moment.
Yes, after more than 14 hours lying in the street, #DeadRaccoonTo was about to be taken away.
The worker placed the raccoon in a garbage bag as a small crowd watched, mostly in silence. “Seriously guys, it’s a dead raccoon,” the worker said. He was oblivious to the moment, to how this dead raccoon had united so many.
A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
I have a racoon story. One of my coworkers killed one in her yard. Another coworker wanted it because she eats them. So cw # 1 puts it in a cooler (she had frozen it the night before) and puts it in cw #2s car. Cw #2 went to her car later. No cooler. Turns out cw #1 put it in the wrong car. We never did hear anything about it. I imagine the car owner was very baffled at how a cooler with a dead racoon got in it.
I have a racoon story. One of my coworkers killed one in her yard. Another coworker wanted it because she eats them. So cw # 1 puts it in a cooler (she had frozen it the night before) and puts it in cw #2s car. Cw #2 went to her car later. No cooler. Turns out cw #1 put it in the wrong car. We never did hear anything about it. I imagine the car owner was very baffled at how a cooler with a dead racoon got in it.
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Sometimes you're the windshield, and sometimes you're the bug.
I have a racoon story. One of my coworkers killed one in her yard. Another coworker wanted it because she eats them. So cw # 1 puts it in a cooler (she had frozen it the night before) and puts it in cw #2s car. Cw #2 went to her car later. No cooler. Turns out cw #1 put it in the wrong car. We never did hear anything about it. I imagine the car owner was very baffled at how a cooler with a dead racoon got in it.
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“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou