Kathy Williams

I froze at my work. Skunks out in the daytime, not a welcome sight because it's likely they are sick, maybe with rabies. But it was dusk. So, I'm thinking to myself: In the skunk world, is dusk daylight, when they wouldn't be hunting, or nighttime when they would? All the while the thoughts are buzzing through my head, I'm keeping my eye on the skunk, now under my car, now ambling through the carport and out of my sight. It wasn't out of my cat's sight. I noticed she was stalking the skunk. Is that a good thing?

I slowly grabbed a pitchfork and tried to become small and silent. I was in the garden, which is fenced with two openings, both between me and the skunk, so I would have to get closer to get away. I decided stealth versus flight was the better path. As the skunk toddled closer to the fence, I backed around the compost pile, trying to keep it in view with as many "scent barriers" between us as possible.

As it was with my first encounter with an elk in the wild, I felt no fear the animal would hurt me. I began to just observe its odd walk. Its coat was mostly white on top with black underneath -- not exactly the stereotypical pattern. As long as its tail was down, I felt pretty safe, although I do believe the skunk saw me.

The cat and I were fortunate the dogs did not notice the skunk and launch into frantic barking. The skunk sniffed at the garden fence and then walked around its perimeter, across what someday will be a hen yard, over the hay field and into my neighbors' yard. Living in the country provides so many treats, an not a little adventure along the way.

I would like to thank the skunk for not spraying me or my stealthy cat. If it remains that polite, it's welcome to visit again.