Black and White
LeAnn posted this blog on Sunday, September 12th, 2010 at 11:57 pm
One evening last week when I took Pixie outside before I went to bed, as soon as Pixie reached the lawn, she went bouncing around the corner of the house, pouncing on her front legs and barking.
“What’s over there?” I said.
I did not think it could be a raccoon, because as soon as Pixie sees a raccoon, the race is on, and the raccoon is soon up a tree.
As I walked closer, Pixie continued to bounce and bark, but she did not go any closer.
I looked around the corner of the house and saw . . . something fluffy and black and white. . .
“Pixie!” I said. “Get away from there! Come here, Pixie!”
Pixie barked a few more times and reluctantly came toward me.
“Go in the house, Pixie,” I said, opening the door for her.
I turned my attention back to the east side yard where the skunk continued to mosey around.
I was a good 50 feet away from it, so I felt relatively safe.
“Shoo!” I said, clapping my hands. “Ssst! Sssst! Shoo! Go away.”
The skunk paid no attention.
So here’s the silly thing. If the skunk did not worry about Pixie barking at him, why would he worry about me clapping my hands?
I went across the driveway to my truck, opened the door, and started beeping the horn.
When I went back to the side yard, the skunk was still nosing around. He apparently was not one bit worried about the truck horn, either.
Now. See. Here’s the thing I know about skunks. They are not afraid of much. They walk through life with complete confidence. And they don’t worry about too much of anything.
Eventually the skunk disappeared under the propane tank, and I was hoping that meant he had gone on his merry way.
I had forgotten about the skunk until I was coming back from the barn Sunday evening after feeding the horses.
As I came closer to the basement door, I saw something black and white by the culvert that runs under the driveway.
The black and white thing continued until he was halfway out of the culvert. And then I knew.
It was a skunk!
Just at that moment, the kitties decided to have a hissy-fit fight on the other side of the house. The growling and hissing was enough for Mr. Skunk, who retreated back into the culvert.
Before I went to break up the kitty fight, I set down the horse buckets. And when I turned around, there was the skunk again, sticking his head of the culvert.
“Shoo! Scram!” I said.
The skunk quickly retreated.
I went around to gather up the cat who had been growling and snarling and put her in the house. Long-haired fluffy red-and-white MaryAnne likes to pick on the barn kittens sometimes.
When I came back, I didn’t see any more of the skunk.
I went into the house and got out a jug of ammonia, thinking that maybe if I sprinkled some around and made the culvert smell bad, the skunk would stay away.
The culvert is only a few feet from the hen house, and I would just as soon that a skunk did not hang around the hen house.
When I told Randy about our black-and-white culvert dweller, he was not especially thrilled.
“Great. Skunk s bother chickens,” he said.
“I know,” I said, “let’s hope the ammonia works.
Up until now, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen a skunk around the house.
I sincerely hope it will be a long time again before I see another one.
LeAnn R. Ralph
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