Skunk

It was a hot summer in early August and I had a short break between jobs. It was very relaxing and I had just enjoyed a weekend vacation at Lake Tahoe with my wife and son. The one dividend from hot summer days is how pleasant the late evening can be outdoors. So it was for me around 10 pm each evening when I took the Guru dog for a walk. We took a path leading into a small industrial complex which was generally abandoned in the evening. There are just a handful of small electronics companies on a side street that made a circle from the main street down near a creek and back. It’s about a half mile perhaps to make the circle and come back home.

One evening we were surprised by a skunk which came from behind a large tree and approached us near the road side. The dog and I were both startled and we moved into the middle of the road to avoid this potentially dangerous critter. I’ve heard that in addition to being able to throw out nasty fumes, skunks are one of the animals more likely to be a rabies carrier. This particular skunk held his ground and we went around him. I thought this was one of those once in a long while experiences like the day an opossum traveled through our backyard, but this was not to be the case. For several evenings, the skunk would pop out somewhere along our path and then follow us in parallel. Being a sort of thin creature with a long body it had the effect of a jack-in-the-box and almost never failed to startle us those first few times. Although I had begun to grow used to this spectacle, I was a bit miffed that this skunk was not afraid of us.

One evening I caught a major tactical advantage and actually saw the skunk before he could come out to surprise us. I picked up a small rock and tossed it, not intending to harm him but only to let him know this was our path and requiring that he give us some respect. The rock landed sufficiently close to the animal and he did appear startled but he recovered quickly. The skunk looked around, saw the dog and I, and came immediately toward us. It was time to retreat. Again! Back to the middle of the road we went and the skunk did the same thing he always did which was to come out toward the road and then move back into the grass, apparently going along his merry way.

After a week or maybe two, I felt we had begun to know this skunk well enough and we seemed to have gotten used to one another since everyone’s behavior had become predictable. I had begun to wonder if the small creature was lonely and only came out to have a look at us, thus avoiding another uneventful evening. It became a nightly ritual. The Guru dog and I would see the skunk somewhere along the road, always a different spot it seemed, and we would just slow down to watch him. The skunk moved about in a determined way but he always seemed to be taking his own sweet time. In fact, he seemed quite incapable of running in the sense that we’d normally expect from small, furry animals. Guru and I came to enjoy watching the skunk walk or rather bounce along the ground. Nothing smooth about this guy’s way of getting around.

This nightly ritual ended shortly after I returned back to work. My wife and son were away on vacation, and I was busy at a new job with my mind all cluttered up with vague half understood information. The Guru and I didn’t go out for a couple of evenings. I did decide to go out for groceries on a Friday night though. I had not driven too far when I saw something on the road. The skunk had been completely crushed near an entrance to the freeway. I turned my head away from the sight. How did I know it was “our” neighborhood skunk, I wonder? Well, my thought was confirmed in a sad way. When we resumed our nightly walks there was no longer any small skunk to greet us.

Some days my mind is full of sentimental thoughts. It was just a fleeting connection but Guru and I spent several nights scanning the roadside, casually expecting our new found friend to reappear. I even felt a bit sorry that I’d ever attempted to chase the little skunk away. Skunk carries not a hint of dignity in human terms. This one didn’t have a name and I’ve barely mentioned its existence to anyone before this.

Created by Bill Keys
billgkeys@yahoo.com
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