Aug 7 2010

Permittez moi de vous presenter, Monsieur le Pew



Last week, just minding my own business, hanging out and doing some brainstorming and note-taking in my little woody nook in the back yard. Sun going down, how lovely as the dark begins to gather , juuust enough light left for me to write one more line or two in my journal…

Hm, says I, half-distracted, kinda nasty smell there…

…look past out toward the bird feeder. And.


Neighborhood skunk.

Now, he must not be aware of me, or he would not have approached at all. Yet there he is, a mere four feet away, happily munching the fall-out of sunflower seeds from the bird-feeder.

Munching, in fact, directly in my path out of there.

He already smells, meaning he’s fired his guns at least once today. So the question becomes:Does he still have ammunition left?

And do I feel like playing a game of So, punk, do you feel lucky? Do you? with a skunk?

I do not feel lucky.

I slink back and do a slow-motion scratch and scramble and get out by way of the neighbor’s flower garden.

But now, in order to get back into the house, I must go past Monsieur le Pew. Because I came out the back porch door, and the front door is locked.

Can I climb the porch railings? Or nonchalantly stroll past our guest, with perhaps a civilized nod of acknowledgment as I go by?

Still not feeling lucky….

At which point I recall something my sister discovered….

Standing out of range, I say: “Woof.”

The diner pauses…

“Woof-woof! Arf, arf, arf!! Woof-woof, arf arf arf-arf-arf.”

By golly, it works.

Off he ambles, not exactly frightened, I’d say, but playing it safe. And at a good speed.

So I offer this bit of skunk-lore to you, from my wood-wise sister. To safely encourage skunks to depart, abandon your humanity, embrace your Inner Dog.

Monsieur le Pew

Monsieur le Pew

(Last week was crazy busy; a much more sensible post is promised, soon.)