Raccoons, long known as “trash pandas” raiding suburban bins, are increasingly turning up somewhere unexpected in the United States: curled up on couches, riding in cars and starring in TikToks as household pets.
Across a patchwork of roughly 16–20 U.S. states, it is now legal under certain conditions to keep a raccoon as a pet, including Arkansas, Florida, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Nebraska, New Jersey, Ohio, Tennessee, Texas, Vermont, Wisconsin and Wyoming. Exotic breeders, licensed rehabbers and online classified sites report steady interest, even as wildlife officials and veterinarians warn that raccoons remain demanding, high-risk animals that are far from fully domesticated.
The trend is tied to several factors. Social media is a major driver: viral videos show raccoons eating ice cream in the passenger seat, wearing tiny hoodies or being bottle-fed like kittens, giving the impression of a quirky, ultra-cute alternative to cats and dogs. A growing body of research on “urban raccoons” also fuels fascination. A recent study reported city raccoons showing traits associated with domestication, such as slightly shorter snouts and reduced fear of humans, raising headlines that raccoons may be “evolving to be more like pets.”
Yet, experts stress that this doesn’t make them safe or easy companions. Under U.S. law, raccoons are still wild animals and classified as exotic wildlife in most jurisdictions. Many states, such as Colorado and Washington, outright forbid private ownership; fines can reach into the thousands of dollars for keeping a raccoon without authorization. Even in “legal” states, owners usually must obtain permits, buy from licensed breeders (taking raccoons from the wild is almost always illegal), and meet strict enclosure and vaccination rules.
Are they friendly? Owners describe raccoons as intelligent, playful, and at times affectionate, capable of learning tricks and even using a litter box. But animal-welfare organizations paint a more complicated picture. Raccoons are highly curious and strong for their size; they can open cupboards, shred furniture, and chew electrical wires. Their behavior often changes at sexual maturity, when once-tame juveniles may become territorial, destructive, or aggressive. Studies of free-ranging raccoons show frequent aggression between animals, a reminder that behind the cute mask is a powerful set of teeth and claws.
Public-health officials are also concerned. Raccoons are important carriers of rabies and other zoonotic diseases, such as roundworm and leptospirosis. A bite from an unvaccinated raccoon can mean a painful, costly course of rabies shots for humans, sometimes combined with mandatory euthanasia and testing of the animal. For this reason, many veterinarians refuse to treat pet raccoons, and some states automatically classify any bite incident as a serious health risk.
Keeping a raccoon is not cheap, either. Rescue groups estimate the basic monthly cost of a raccoon; food, bedding and routine supplies, at around $70–80, with average annual totals in the hundreds of dollars. Add in a specialized outdoor enclosure, toys to prevent boredom, neutering or spaying, vaccines from exotic-animal vets, and emergency repairs to the house, and the price can rival that of a large dog or more. Exotic breeders advertise kits for several hundred dollars each, with higher prices for rare color morphs.
So why are some Americans still drawn to them? Pet-ownership analysts point to a broader boom in “unconventional” pets, everything from hedgehogs to foxes; among younger, urban populations seeking animals that feel unique and Instagram-ready. Raccoons, with their expressive faces and human-like paws, fit the bill perfectly. Online communities, where owners swap bottle-feeding tips and post videos of raccoons “helping” with laundry, reinforce the idea that they can be part of the family.
Wildlife experts, however, say the growing interest should come with stronger education rather than encouragement. They argue that raccoons are best appreciated as clever neighbors in the urban ecosystem, not as living novelties on a leash. For now, the masked mammals seem to be walking a blurry line between alleyways and armchairs, caught in a culture that increasingly wants wildlife closer, even when it may not be ready, or safe, to bring it fully indoors.
