A Skunk Named Flower

It was to be a normal Monday morning. I would write my blog and do mundane things. My dog and a baby skunk had other ideas.

It was still dark when I heard the barking, lots of barking. My Jack Russel terrier was barking. The neighbors five chihuahuas were barking. Other nameless dogs were barking. I groaned. Pixie had caught something, again. I dragged myself downstairs kicking myself for not locking that dog in the garage before going to bed. I switched on the porch light and thrust my feet into my husbands tennis shoes he'd left by the back door. Clomping through the wet grass in my nightgown and Tom's giant shoes I scanned the hedge for movement of a determined little brown dog. Pixie had gotten hold of possums who fortunately "played possum" before either of them caused too much harm to the other.

Something dark with a big tail ran across the yard with Pixie following right behind. It wasn't a possum. Pixie lunged. I lunged and then held back. A small skunk stood on its head pointing its rear end up in the air. I knew what that meant. Pixie didn't care. She barked and lunged and grabbed some fur. Reluctantly I went into the medley. The air was thick was skunk fumes, though not nearly as strong as we usually experienced from full grown skunks. I grabbed Pixies collar and picked her up and got away from the stinky fur ball as quickly as I could. Pixie stunk as well. I threw her in the garage and went upstairs and changed into non skunk clothes.

The sun was up and I was still in bed when I heard someone open the door to let Pixie out of the garage. I got dressed and wondered how bad the dog smelled a few hours post skunk. Then I heard the barking and the yelling. No. It can't still be there. Why would it still be in the yard?
Pixie was frantically barking at the small space between the wall and our metal garden shed. Good grief. Why didn't it leave last night?

Once again I put the dog in the garage. I attended my mother duties of lunch packing and sending off people to school and work. Our teenage son still had a low fever which had begun the day before. Fearful his cold was turning into the bronchitis I had had I put in a call to the doctor and made an appointment.

Next was the call to animal control. After a long wait on hold I explained the situation to the officer. The reply was can one person get this skunk out or would it be a two person job? And they did not know when the officer would come by and the officer would not do anything if I was not home. I hung up the phone. One baby skunk should not be this big of a problem.

Outside I peeked behind the shed. The odor was only noticeable when you got close. Perhaps she had used up all her squirt on the dog last night. My eyes adjusted to the dimness and I saw her quivering in a pile of leaves. She was jet black the size of an oven mitt plus a tail. The thick white stripe began between her ears ran down her back. Her fluffy but bedraggled tail looped over her back and rested on her head behind her tiny round ears. "Hey little skunk," I said. She looked up at me and shook some more. "It's okay. The dog can't get you. I'm sorry she went after like that. You're safe now."

The quivering stopped. She cocked her head and looked at me as if to say, "Are you nice?" Her shiny black eyes and tiny round nose look like ebony marbles against her fur. The shaking began again. I gently talked to her like you talk to a baby who had been crying. The shaking subsided. I got an idea and went inside the house. I returned with a pet carrier box. I placed the opened door next to the gap by the wall. Then I took the garden hose around to the other side of the shed. Next I went and got my son who had decided he was well enough to play games on the computer.

"Come on," I said, "I need you to help catch the skunk. You shoot the water at her and herd her into the box. I'll hold the box."

My patient son rolled his eyes and followed me outside. "Oookay," he replied in his sarcastic way, "Because that's not a strange thing to do at all." My son has learned it's hopeless to argue with his mother when came to animals. Some moms ran in fear of wild critters, his mom ran toward them.

"She's so cute!" I exclaimed. " She looks like Flower from the movie Bambie! " My son looked at me like I was nuts which was pretty normal.

Tommy turned on the hose and sprayed-herded Flower into the carrier. I snapped the door shut and looked at the damp skunk inside. She wasn't too sure of the box but wasn't complaining. Tommy took a look, coughed a little and returned inside.

I looked at the sky. It was going to get hot soon. I didn't want to leave Flower in a box too long. Who knew when animal would show up? We had to leave soon for the doctor's appointment. Another brilliant idea hit me.

After taking a few pictures for the scrapbook I took Flower for a walk. I carried the box up the hill a little ways. A neighbor's property sloped toward a retaining wall by the street. It was a large property with lots of fruit trees. Ivy covered the ground at the bottom of the slope and hung over the wall. I held up the box over my head and set it on top of the wall. The door was open. I tipped it up a little. After a moment little Flower slid out. I took away the box and placed it on the sidewalk beside me. Flower looked down at me. She cocked her head from side to side as if to say, "What are you doing? You're not leaving are you?"

"Go on. Go on Flower. Go find your friends. You'll be alright."

She cocked her head again, looking at me questioningly. Finally she turned around and sniffed the ivy a few times and disappeared beneath the leaves.

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Safety note: Never handle skunks barehanded. As cute as they are they can bite and can carry rabies. Not only that, they stink. Pixie was bathed with vinegar which took away a lot of the smell. Eventually the odor will wear off. My family still thinks I'm nuts.