A few days later, the family was still adjusting. I found that I still could tolerate human food, even though it tasted strange now. The garbage can smelled more enticing, but I convinced myself it's not healthy for me. Dad allowed me to sleep in his bed, although I mostly felt like sleeping during the daytime and felt wide-awake and restless when the sun went down. I could pee and shit in the toilet, as awkward and difficult as it was. I made an effort to wipe myself, but with this dirty grey fur covering every inch of me it felt almost pointless.
"Cathy," said Dad, looking at me as though I was his wife stuck in the body of a female raccoon forever, "You're not cleaning yourself too well. I think I'll give you and Brad a bath together."
I did feel dirty. I was covered in fur, lint, and grime from crawling around the house, and peeing and shitting through my hairy female raccoon genitals. I nodded using my head, silently. I'd come to grips with the fact that my mouth would never produce real human noises, and I'd just be incredibly annoying if I kept trying to talk, so I'd best try to stay silent from now on.
In the bath, I looked at Brad my naked 4-year-old... brother? son? I don't know, I'm a raccoon, nothing makes sense to me now. He was slightly taller than me. I felt myself overwhelmed with envy. He was a human being. He was a boy. He could talk. He would grow bigger and taller for years and he would have that penis to play with, for the rest of his life. He'd be a man someday.
"Does a waccoon have a penis?" Brad innocently asked Dad, looking curiously over my furry midsection.
"Boy raccoons do. This raccoon is a girl raccoon. She has a vagina."
"Oh." Brad resumed playing with his toys. "I like my penis," he said, giggling.
"I like my penis too, Bradley. Being a boy is great." They high-fived.
I felt absolutely humiliated. Here I was, soaking wet, unable to walk or talk, covered head-to-toe in fur, knowing I only had a few years left to live. I would never know the joy of being a boy or a human again.
"I wish I had a tail, dough," Brad said.
I looked hopefully up at Dad. Dad patted me on the back. "I wish I had a tail, too! Some raccoons have all the luck." He smiled at me. It was the first time I felt any happiness since my name was pulled out of that hat.
I struggled to stand up, even harder in the soapy water. I stuck my female raccoon butt out and wagged my tail around. Brad reached out to hold it. "I wike your tail!!" he said, giggling. I couldn't smile, not having a human face or mouth, but I felt better. It was fun having a tail.