It seems like Skunk Week around here. The skunks have come by so often, they don’t even look up when I take a picture.
There was the night the two cutest little skunk kits came nosing around the garden while the evil cat skulked past other side of the garden wall. They were all fluffy, so they ignored each other.
There was the night the sweet tabby cat strolled out back, only to find a big surly skunk. Puff. Hiss.
The skunk jumped. I jumped. I could swear the skunk hissed. I did not hiss. I freaked out. “No, Kitty. Don’t go any nearer!”
Naturally, Miss Sweetie Tabby strolled past the skunk, came back, strolled past the skunk again. She had a lovely time playing a game of “I’m not coming in and you don’t dare come after me.”
This might have something to do with the morning we woke up and the whole world smelled like skunk. No, no the cats. Not us. Just the breeze coming in and the breeze going out, until the air finally cleared of skunk stink.
Oh, yeah, it’s Skunk Week.