In China, this is the year of the sheep. Around my rural home, it’s the spring of the skunk.
Driving up our 1/4 mile long drive that night, I counted four black and white creatures in my headlights, one wandered too close to home for comfort. Since those were visible, who knows how many stinkers ran around outside my vision.
By four the next morning, I knew one had wandered close to the house. We woke up gagging and choking from acrid fumes released within feet or maybe inches of our open bedroom windows. My stomach clenched to think one of ours dogs scored a direct hit.
After discovering my eldest daughter choking her way upstairs, hoping to find fresher air, I braved opening the door. I expected to see a sheepish pooch, stinking to high heavens. Imagine my surprise when both registered a clean air report. As bad as it smelled, I guessed two skunks had run into each other and let the odor fly. Unfortunately, we didn’t get back to sleep.
After that, I smelled skunk everywhere. I thought it was in my head until I got to the school parking lot and exited my vehicle to realize that I did smell skunk. It appeared that early morning blast occurred near my car, and I carried that scent into town with me. The bad news was I’d parked my car in the garage the night before.
That next evening, my husband ran into that skunk. We’d kept the dogs in and away from Pepe Le Pew. During the wee hours of the morning, one barked and growled threateningly at the living room wall attached to the garage. My husband bravely investigated the situation and heard rattling in the garage.
Upon flipping on the garage light, he faced our prowler. Choosing the wise path, he backed out of the garage and raced around front to open the door. That way, the inquisitive beast could depart scentlessly. That incident ended without crisis. Unfortunately, we couldn’t say the same about the next.
Our pup had previously met skunks while running through the brush around the property. With so many present, she got sprayed. In short time, I brewed up a deodorizing concoction using a twelve-ounce bottle of hydrogen peroxide, 1/4 cup of baking soda, and a teaspoon of dish detergent. I’d discovered this worked better than tomato juice to remove skunk stink. However, it can’t be used on heads and faces, which means that any dog hit straight on exhaled eau de skunk for days. No one wanted Reebok nearby for the rest of that week.
Our big yellow dog had his own run-in with those black and white kitties. An obstinate sort, he didn’t want our de-scenting treatment. Choosing his own cure, he wandered to the creek and rolled in mud until he resembled a swamp creature. Though he smelled better, no one, to his surprise, invited him in the house.
Right now, I ‘m waiting for a cold front. When it comes, skunks’ll settle down. While they won’t hibernate, an extended dormancy will clear the air.
Native Kansan Karen Madorin is a local writer and retired teacher who loves sharing stories about places, people, critters, plants, food, and history of the High Plains.