.jpg "Don’t Get Too Attached to Jimothy")
On July 14, internet history was made. After capturing video of a cryptid-like raccoon with a hunched spine and stumpy tail in Seattle’s Ballard neighborhood, Kiana Hall uploaded the footage to her Instagram account, referring to the sprightly little furball as “Jimothy.” (Later, asked in the comments where this name had come from, Hall replied that the animal “looked like a Jimothy to me.”)
Within days, the clip had been viewed millions of times, spawning memes, fan art, plushie toys, and more. City leaders proclaimed a “Jimothy Summer” in honor of the local mascot, and next week, the Seattle Mariners will host a “Jimothy Night” at T-Mobile Park, with ticketholders receiving Jimothy T-shirts. Another Seattelite, Ben Trammell, produced a year-old backyard video of Jimothy as a tiny baby raccoon with his mother and siblings, adding to his lore and celebrity status.
Jimothy’s congenital spine condition—the exact kind remains unverified—has endeared him to people the world over. But it has also raised questions about whether he’s thriving in his urban habitat. Even without the disadvantage of an unusual skeleton (in Trammell’s footage, you can see Jimothy struggle with his footing on a fence), wild raccoons have a life expectancy of just two to three years—and we know from the baby footage that he’s at least a year old. Are his admirers setting themselves up for heartbreak in the near future?
“Without examining the animal, we simply don’t know how much his spinal condition affects his daily function,” says Rebecca Calisi-Rodríguez, a wildlife biologist at UC Davis who studies animal behavior and stress. She adds that not every congenital abnormality substantially reduces an animal’s odds of survival or quality of life. “The fact that Jimothy appears mobile, alert, and successful at navigating an urban environment suggests he has adapted well enough to meet the challenges of everyday life,” Calisi-Rodríguez says, “but that’s very different from saying we can predict how long he’ll live.”
It’s likely that Jimothy made it this far in part due to the sophisticated intellect of raccoons. The species’ maternal habits also must have played a role. As many as half of young kits die before leaving the den where they were born, but those who do make it out are safeguarded by their mothers long after they’ve weaned, unlike the young of many small mammal species.
According to Jessica Castillo-Vardaro, whose lab at San José State University is devoted to molecular ecology and urban wildlife, Jimothy is likely already past the “most vulnerable” period of his life. Now, she says, “he doesn’t have many predators, and his greatest risk is being hit by a car.” While his physical form may diminish his chances against an attacking dog or coyote, Castillo-Vardaro says, Jimothy has “probably figured out how to avoid those situations, otherwise he wouldn’t still be here.”
Humans’ strong affection for animals that become internet stars can often run up against the harsh realities of life in the wild, particularly in species with much shorter lifespans than ours. Castillo-Vardaro points to popular livestreams of bird nests that show predators swooping in to eat eggs or hatchlings. “It’s sad, but it is a part of nature, and we shouldn’t shy away from it,” she says.
Factor in the harmful ways content creators and influencers use animals for clout—including by staging “rescues” and intrusive selfies, or even attempting to domesticate them as pets—and the cause for concern ratchets up. Indeed, the wildlife biologists who spoke to WIRED agree that Jimothy’s fame could be the biggest threat to his well-being right now.
