It is with deep regret that we inform you that @City_Raccoon has gone to rummage in a compost bin in the sky.
For the past few weeks Toronto’s tweeps have been charmed by the antics of a furry masked bandit named @City_Raccoon. He did what all raccoons do: peered through windows, ripped open trash bags, and spooked passersby with scary glow-in-the-dark eyes. It was a distinctly Toronto-esque bit of fun: the creature we all join in hating all of a sudden welcome, at least as a cute online diversion. It felt, in fact, just like raccoon encounters do in real life: you’d be reading about the Occupation or checking out reviews of Drake’s latest album, then oh!, raccoon crossing your path for a moment.
It is therefore with much sadness that we must report that @City_Raccoon’s life of gnawing and sleeping in sheds has come to a rapid and unexpected close. National Post opinion writer and City Hall observer Jonathan Goldsbie (who is also a Torontoist alumni) unmasked the human behind the raccoon on Twitter earlier today. And really, what is a raccoon without his mask?