Thunder boomed in the near distance. Maisie shuddered at the deafening sound. Water seeped through her boots and into socks. The mud and moss were slippery and she soon tripped on a large rock and landed face-first on the ground. She groaned as she scrambled to her feet and once again fell in the mud. Maisie stared at the sky in dismay when something caught her eye.

There was a large hollow in a nearby tree with a raccoon kit’s little head peeping out of it. There was no sign of a mother; the nest looked as though it had been abandoned. Maisie knew the cub wouldn’t survive the storm. An idea struck her, but just as suddenly as it came she dismissed it. She had acrophobia, the fear of heights, and in the middle of a thunderstorm was not the time to face it. She gazed at the kit. It began to plaintively whimper as if it knew what she was thinking. Maisie clenched her fists. She would not, no, could not just leave the cub to die. So she began to ascend the tree.

The bark was slippery from the rain. If she fell….Maisie looked down and shuddered.  She was starting to feel a little dizzy. Maisie screamed as she lost her grip and fell before grabbing onto a large branch. She swung around and attempted to regain her balance. In a few minutes, she was next to the hollow and peeked inside.

The kit was curled up in a corner trembling. Maisie hesitated before seizing the raccoon and shoving it in her basket. She nearly fell as it began to thrash and claw, but managed to stay nestled in the crook of the tree. Slowly, she made her way down, careful not to look at the drop. She was almost there when lightning hit a large oak just a few meters away. Startled, she screeched as she plummeted from the tree. The little raccoon’s claws pierced through the basket and clenched into Maisie. Maisie winced as she fell on her ankle. She painfully hoisted herself up to inspect the damage. There didn’t appear to be any breaks or fractures. It was probably just sprained. She gritted her teeth as she forced the raccoon’s claws out of her skin, one by one.

Gathering her wits, she clutched a large stick and began to limp home, using it as a crutch. Within fifteen minutes, she began to see lights and smell beef stew waft through the air. Worried voices floated from the window.

Maisie hobbled up the steps and thrust the door open, eliciting surprised gasps from her grandparents as they took in her drenched, mud-splattered, and scratched state. She took the kit out of her basket, careful to hold it far away from herself.

    “Could you please get one of Annie’s doll beds?” she asked her grandparents. The raccoon, which had been attempting to wriggle out of her grip, was beginning to calm down. It confusedly peered around the room.

    “Maisie, what on Earth is going on? We were worried about you when you were gone so long in the storm. Why do you have a newborn raccoon?” her grandmother exclaimed, staring confusedly, much like the raccoon.  

    “Please? My arms are getting tired, and I have a feeling you don’t want it wandering around the house. I’ll explain later.” she responded.

Sighing, her grandmother left the room to search for a suitable bed for the raccoon. A few seconds later, she returned with a miniature cradle. The cradle would ensure it wouldn’t escape for the night if they covered the top.

Maisie gently lowered in the raccoon and covered it with one of the tiny blankets. The raccoon promptly wiggled itself out and sniffed the air inquisitively.

    “What happened?” her grandmother asked. “I know you went out to gather berries, but I thought something had happened to you after so much time passed. Something probably had considering the limp and raccoon.” she chuckled.

“Well, it’s kind of a short story, as I was on my way home I spotted the kit in a tree hollow. The tree didn’t look like it’d withstand the storm, and the mother was nowhere to be found, so I climbed the tree. I put the raccoon in my berry basket, but when I was almost halfway down, I fell. Luckily, I don’t think I hurt anything, but I’ll probably have to be easy on my ankle for a while.” Maisie explained, occasionally making arm gestures to dramatize the tale.

“Would anyone care to tell the story again? I wasn’t here,” her grandfather said as he walked in with a steaming bowl of stew. He handed it to Maisie and sat down on a chair.

Maisie repeated the story, and they discussed what should be done with the raccoon. Eventually, they agreed to take care of it for a few weeks before letting it into the wild. If it decided to stay, they would let it, but they doubted it would want to live with them full time.

Weeks passed, and the raccoon grew very close to the family. Maisie had named it Scout due to its habit of watching her and her sister Annie intently as they slept. Maisie adored Scout. Every day she and her sister would spend a quarter of their time just feeding, walking, and cuddling with her, but it was beginning to get to the time though when they’d have to say goodbye.

Scout had begun to disappear for long periods of time during the night. During the day it was possible to find her in one of the many dark nooks and crannies, but the fact that she was a wild animal began to show more and more. Like when they were playing and Scout would accidentally leave a nasty gash on Maisie’s arm, or when she began to refuse dry food. Not only that but the girls’ stay at her grandparents’ house would soon come to an end.

Nonetheless, they continued to play and make the most of themselves until the fated day when her parents arrived, and time had run out. After many tears and promises (including that Scout would never be cast out) they drove away, waving and shouting until they could no longer see one another.

Maisie and Annie went through school glumly, missing the joy and adventures of summertime. Even more so, they missed Scout. Scout, the dog they’d never had.

Back in the cabin, Scout had gone frantic with worry. For a few days, she searched everywhere: the cabin, the backyard, the woods, but Maisie and Annie were nowhere to be found. Dejected, Scout spent almost all of her time in the forest now except occasional visits to the patio of the cabin.

Slowly, as time past they began to find other things to do. Neither really forgot, but it was no longer at the forefront of their minds.

Almost a year had gone by when the family returned during their spring break. The girls had grown a few inches and the cabin was decorated in accordance with Easter, but not much else had changed.

The first day Scout was there. The children played and snuggled with her as though they had never left, but that was the only day they saw her. Scout, assured they were safe had retreated to the woods to work on her own business.

One day, when Maisie was sent out to gather wild blueberries for cobbler she heard a loud mewling. It reminded her of when Scout was a cub and attention. Curious, she followed the noise, taking her through the forest to a spot she remembered from not so long ago. There she saw Scout poking her head out of the hollow she was once rescued from…and something else…

Right next to Scout three tiny bodies squabbled and wrestled. Maisie giggled at the sweet sight, no wonder Scout had been so hard to find these days. At first, Scout hissed in the direction of the sound but seeing it was Maisie she just continued watching the kits play.

Curious to know if Scout would still respond, Maisie clicked her tongue and whistled. Scout clambered down the tree and inquisitively sat a foot away from Maisie who rolled a handful of blueberries her way. Blueberries had always been Scout’s favorite fruit and she took them eagerly. Maisie took one last long look before smiling sadly and walking away.