Ever since I was a little kid, my mother and grandmother instilled in me certain rules intended to keep me safe — I’m sure you know their like: don’t eat unknown wild berries without a parental unit’s approval, stay away from broken glass and electrical wires. Perhaps the one that made the most impression on me, though, was to stay away from raccoons, because they have rabies.

Looking back, I’m curious what my mom actually said — whatever the warning was, it resulted in my terror of the evil, masked raccoon.

As time went along, though, I changed my mind about these adorable little things. They are adorable — they have tiny little primate-like hands, and a gothic fashion sense. Late in the summer, I frequently see raccoons in a filthy wetland along my jogging route. As fall sets in, they started wandering into the neighborhood and onto my deck, to partake of the grapes growing on my arbor.

One night in particular, the housemates and I got a thrill of a life-time when we noticed no less than six young raccoons watching us through the sliding glass door. The experience turned almost nightmarish when I opened the door in hopes of attaining a quality photograph. The flash and our close proximity kind of screwed their chi, I guess, because they started to flip out. Earlier in the week, one of my roommates had witnessed outside his window a bloody, shrieking, snarling battle between a raccoon and a housecat.

We decided the best thing to do would be to close the door, turn off the lights and hide under tables until they ate all of our grapes and left.

As it is, we see raccoons on a regular basis. They are all over the city, and they roam the streets shamelessly.

However, even if they are a rough-and-tumble violent, food-stealing community of disease, I think they’re amazing, and I have reason to believe they think the same of me.

A friend threw a black and white masquerade ball last quarter. One of my buddies works in a metal forge, and crafted for me a wicked awesome iron mask in the classic masquerade shape just for the event. The problem was that the eye holes were a bit large — this was remedied by going crazy with my roommate’s eyeliner.

I blacked out both of my eyes in an incidentally raccoony manner, making the mask one of the best things I’ve ever left the house in. Returning home from the party, with mask off and smudged eyeliner all over the place, I ran into a couple raccoons.

Normally, they watch passers by briefly before slinking off, hunch-backed, into the bushes or ditches. This night, though, they stared me down. They finally meandered away, but not before they were within kicking distance (I didn’t kick them, of course).

My friends laughed when I told them this story — they thought I was making it up. We did entertain great humor at the thought that the raccoons now consider me some sort of deity or god. I’d love to walk through Heroine Park and find a mud sculpture in my own image. Either way, I think raccoons are one of the most overlooked city animals.

The next time you’re out late at night, keep an eye peeled for these little things. If you’re feeling mischievous, smudge black all around your eyes — they just might notice you and build a shrine.

Reach reporter Matt Jackson at opinion@dailyuw.com.