
Shutterstock
Baby Raccoon
It was a regular June day in Northeast Minneapolis when the woman I was having tea with interrupted herself.
“BABY RACCOON!” (I’m sure she actually uttered a complete sentence, but BABY RACCOON was all I managed to register as I spun around to look out the window.)
Sure enough, a pair of 20-something women on East Hennepin were carrying a tiny, fluffy raccoon.
While my friend exclaimed over the undeniable cuteness, my brain struggled to integrate the words raccoon and pet. She assured me that pet raccoons are a thing, which she knew because of Instagram. Later, I found Pumpkin the Raccoon’s Insta account, as well that of Melanie, a raccoon who sweeps the floor and rides skateboards, and of Rocket Raccoon, who eats pizza and dresses up in festive costumes.
Turns out, baby raccoons appear even more adorable when filtered through Insta. But when I called the Animal Humane Society, the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center of Minnesota, and an exotic-pet vet, I discovered it’s also illegal to keep them in Minneapolis without a permit.
Why shouldn’t these adorable furballs be pets?
“Rabies,” says vet Jaime Nalezny, who makes house calls across the Twin Cities. It’s a disease, she adds, “that can cause death.”
Historically, the human fascination with taming wild animals has been driven by status, as well as scientific curiosity. And imperialism. In the late 1600s, British royalty earned bragging rights by bringing back a rhinoceros from travels to the East Indies. Starting in the late Middle Ages, lions, bears, and an elephant prowled through a menagerie in the Tower of London. In the U.S., President Theodore Roosevelt kept several exotic pets at the White House, including a bear, a hyena, guinea pigs, and a badger.
Perhaps the current penchant for posting pictures of raccoons licking popsicles isn’t so different.
Whatever the reason, the global market for exotic pets has exploded into a multi-billion-dollar industry. And we may not have hit peak pet yet. Though it’s challenging to estimate numbers—laws vary by state and oversight tends to be lax—Americans keep as pets about 13.3 million small mammals and 9.3 million reptiles, according to a 2015–16 survey by the American Pet Products Association.
The most common uncommon pets that Nalezny treats today include parrots and other birds, bearded dragons, various types of turtles and tortoises, chameleons, and snakes. The not-quite-exotic category includes rodents: rats, mice, guinea pigs, hamsters, and gerbils.
At this point the menagerie grows increasingly weird and far-fetched: hedgehogs, wallabies, and kangaroos. She refuses to see captive-bred skunks (again, rabies) and foxes, which she describes as unsuitable to captivity.
The language that regulates exotic pets is vague, including the definition of the word exotic. To figure it all out, one has to research federal, state, county, and municipal laws. For example, you can keep a potbellied pig in Minnetonka, but not in St. Paul (unless you have a permit).
A resident fishing license allows Minnesotans to take turtles as pets out of lakes and streams. But the breed, season, and size all vary.
The laws can change. Until 2002, it was legal in Minnesota to keep lions, tigers, and other big cats. In fact, as the Animal Humane Society explains it, you could go online and order up a 15-week-old jaguar and it would arrive at your doorstep the next day.

Shutterstock (sign and carriage), The Noun Project (snake symbol)
Baby on board
•••••
These days, celebrities and movies help launch new status animals. Think kids begging for clownfish after watching Finding Nemo, Potterheads trying to train owls, and boys waiting for their pet-store turtle to reproduce the stunts of Michelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, and Raphael. And social media has become a zoo. We now have celebrity pets, PetCon, and pet influencers who can charge thousands of dollars for promoting products.
Alas, animals that reach the level of status pet are generally unlucky. In the wake of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, pet owners dumped their turtles into rivers, lakes, dumpsters, and toilets, according to American Tortoise Rescue. Owls inspired by Hedwig didn’t fare much better. Even huskies have been abandoned after Game of Thrones, leading actor Peter Dinklage to implore fans to stop buying them.
Exotic pets aren’t great for the environment, either. In addition to hurting wild animal populations, exotic pets can establish themselves as invasive species—often after their owners have abandoned them. The Burmese python, for example, now runs rampant in the Florida Everglades, threatening native animals and often outwitting a “Python Patrol” program.
Why shouldn’t these adorable Raccoon furballs be pets? “Rabies,” says local vet Jaime Nalezny. “It’s a disease that can cause death.”
These animals also can pose health threats to their owners. Exotic pets can be vectors of SARS, rabies, herpes, and salmonella infection . And then there are the pet snakes that strangle or fatally bite their owners, and the lions and tigers that maul their owners to death.
“I wish I could say they were fun and cool, but it’s actually depressing,” Nalezny says. “People spend $2,000 or whatever on a designer animal and then it bites someone or a neighbor reports it, and the animal is destroyed.”
Often, these failed pet pairings lead to the Animal Humane Society, in Golden Valley, where Keith Streff leads the Humane Investigations department. Streff points to the sugar glider as a classic case of a pet fad gone awry.
Tiny possums from Australia and New Guinea, sugar gliders flew out of mall kiosks across the country around 10 years ago. Their big eyes and their ability to glide made them instant hits on social media. But information on how to properly care for the animals did not occupy the same level of interest, and people suddenly had a lot of sick sugar gliders.
Nalezny has seen the same story play out, again and again, with different species, from parrots to iguanas. The reptile she sees most often now? An Australian import known as the bearded dragon.
•••••
Nacho Libre—a bearded dragon in Edina—enjoys a diet that sounds healthier than ours: yellow squash, collard greens, mango, crickets. But A reptile’s stay at a pet store puts the animal at risk of diarrhea, adenovirus, and pinworms.
I joined Nalezny last month to make a house call on a bearded dragon in Edina named Nacho Libre.
Nacho was something of an impulse buy, according to his owners, Stacey Seibel and her 7-year-old son, Henry. They’d gone to Petco looking for a tortoise, but the store had run out, and they came home with a dragon instead. Fortunately for Nacho, Seibel has since done her homework, and she’s determined to take good care of the animal.
Within seconds of meeting each other, Nalezny and Seibel dive into a conversation about lizard poop. Nacho’s diet sounds healthier than mine: yellow squash, collard greens, mango, crickets. But he looks a lot less robust and energetic than Jack Black (the other Nacho Libre). A reptile’s stay at a pet store, Nalezny says, puts the animal at risk of diarrhea, adenovirus, and pinworms. Nalezny tells her clients to assume all bearded dragons carry salmonella.
After Seibel shows Nalezny pictures of Nacho’s poop, the vet decides she needs to see it for herself. From her medical kit, she pulls out a tube of lubricant and a thermometer. Respecting Nacho’s privacy, Seibel and I pick this moment to leave the room and talk to Henry about why he wanted a bearded dragon. (Nacho likes to listen when Henry plays guitar!)
“Until 2002, it was legal in Minnesota to keep lions, tigers, and other big cats. In fact, as the Animal Humane Society explains it, you could go online and order up a 15-week-old jaguar, and it would arrive at your doorstep.
When we return, there’s a new stench in Henry’s bedroom, and a new diagnosis for Nacho: severe diarrhea.
Not to worry. Nalezny assures Seibel she’ll send along a four-page email explaining how to fine-tune the temperature of his terrarium, and she’ll pass along some diet advice, too. (Pro tip: Add some roaches for a tasty snack.)
Nacho is clearly luckier than most bearded dragons. Friends thought Seibel was crazy for calling a vet about a lizard, she says. In fact, many traditional vets don’t care for exotics: Minnesota counts fewer than two dozen. Nacho’s stool is now being tested for cryptosporidium or giardia—neither of which sounds like a great selling point.
When people ask Nalezny about exotics, she encourages them to research the owner’s responsibilities and commit to keeping the animal. And she emphasizes that buying an exotic pet creates a demand for more.
Some alternative options? Consider adoption, she says, or donating time to a rescue where you can connect with an animal. She knows, though, this option won’t be enough for everyone.
“There will still be people who have a need to fulfill in their life with an exotic animal,” she says—a void, it would seem, that only a raccoon can fill.
