He is bold! He is fearless! Run, do not walk to your nearest exit!
The skunk has arrived!
Or so I thought when the furry little fellow decided my water meter was the perfect place for his daytime slumber.
How do you find a skunk hidden away like that?
Put Shawnee, Queen dog of the Mountain on the case.
My little dog walked out for her morning constitutional, stopping right by the front door.
She froze.
Looked around.
Sniffed at the meter.
What is she doing? I thought, as I walked up to her and looked down into the space.
Sure enough, there's a little black and white bugger staring at me with his trail straight up in the air, pointing at us.
You'd be amazed at how quickly I ditch the dog jumping back in the house. Hey, I just had a bath in tomato juice, to smooth my skin. I didn't need another one, plus the dog is smaller and less expensive to bath in tomato juice.
Luckily, the dog made it in unmarked, walking slowly past me with a "Oh you wait until next time" look on her face.
What do I do? Can't grab him. I think of difference scenarios.
Should I call the city? What is that going to cost me? Maybe he will get out on his own.
I call my friend, the Animal Whisperer. She's taught me about different animals on the mountain so I figure if anyone knows what to do with Pepe Le Peu she's the one.
Any normal friend, when confronted with a phone call of, "Hey, there's a skunk stuck in my water meter what should I do?" would answer, "Are you kidding me?"
Not the skunk whisperer, "I'll be right over," she replies.
I expect her in the hazmat suit, but she shows up in a baseball cap, jeans, T-shirt and jacket. I, of course, changed into clothes I didn't care too much for (a little short and a lot of tight) in case Pepe decides to unleash.
"You trying to look like a running hooker," she asks looking at my too tight shirt.
"What?"
Back to business at hand.
She goes over to the meter and starts talking skunk. I had no idea I understood skunk, I didn't even need subtitles!
"It's OK little fella, we are here to get you out of there." (Since I am understanding skunk, I'm wondering where the "we" came in here?)
"We need some food to lure it a little closer," she says.
"Kids! We need skunk food!" I yell to the upstairs.
"What do skunks eat," comes the reply.
"I don't know, look it up," I scream.
"Lucky Charms," they ask.
"Really," I yell back.
"Everyone loves Lucky Charms," they reply.
But of course, when you add boys to the story, the noise level increases. Enough that Pepe has decided to dig a burrow and all we see is the tip of his tail.
"How do we get him out now," I wail hoping I don't have to turn the water off to the house any time soon.
"We wait," The Skunk Whisperer says, "Do you have coffee on?"
The kids are enamored with Pepe, so much so that I keep hearing the front door open and close repeatedly. A friend staying with us is abnormally vocal about the skunk, so much so I'm waiting for his scream when he gets sprayed. His father calls, checking on our plans for the day.
"Well, we are attempting to solve a skunk problem. Your son is very interested in this. Hear him screaming in the background?"
There is silence on the other end, we know the odds when all three boys are together with a skunk in the mix, if one of them is getting sprayed. His son is high on my list.
"If he gets sprayed, then you are keeping him," he says quietly. I know he means it.
We sit and drink coffee for an hour, talking about different ways to free Pepe.
"We could put a towel in there, when he grabs hold of it, fling him out of there," my husband suggests.
"We could put a log in the hole, line it with Lucky Charms, then he'll follow them out," my youngest adds.
"We could shoot him with bebe pellets until he jumps out of the hole," Someone suggests. (he is immediately crucified by other members of our skunk roundtable and ejected from the room.
"We could leave him there and when it gets dark, he will find his way out," another adds.
Our course of action is to just grab the thing and pull him out. We look at each other, no one rising up to the occasion. Finally, the Skunk Whisperer says, "I'll do it. He knows I'm not going to hurt him." I am not going to say the rest of the roundtable breathed a sigh of relief.
We walk out, determined. I'm going to film (because I am a wienie) and she's pulling Pepe out. She leans down saying, "Don't worry little fella," and out comes a skunk flying from the hole in my direction! Of course, Pepe is too surprised, just like the rest of us to do anything.
He looks back at us. Contemplates putting the nuclear meltdown on us, but simply turns and walks away.
We both look at each other.
"Did that just happen?"
What is that smell?
Is it following you?
Oh no! Is it following me?
Where's the tomato juice?
