Maybe it’s a Drunken Kangaroo

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From Bing Images

My husband just told me we have a “large” animal living in the cellar beneath our house.

Me: “How large?”

Him: “Well, it wasn’t afraid of me. It just kind of waddled away swishing its fluffy tail in my direction.”

th-2Yikes!

“Do you think it was a raccoon?” I ask hopefully.

The only other animal small enough to get into the cellar is, yes, you’ve guessed it – a SKUNK. Double, triple yikes. (Faithful readers will remember the unrelenting Skunk Siege of December 2014.)

He seems to read my mind: “Maybe that’s why our house smelt so bad for so Pepelong – a skunk confronted our raccoon.”

Now it’s our raccoon. I must nip this idea in the bud, immediately.  Hubby has already adopted several squirrels and chickadees.  “It’s not our raccoon!”

He has another idea.  A few weeks back he left the door to the cellar ajar and of course Pretty Kitty with his little furry paws managed to pry it open and romp around in the dark, dank and dirt of the storage area.  Of course we didn’t realize it until three in the morning when we heard a piteous yowl and practically fell out of bed.  “What the hell was that?”  We both asked in unison. The resulting search of the house failed to locate Kitty and, after coming to the conclusion that he was hiding in some deep crevice and would come out when he was ready, back to bed we stumbled to try to get some rest.  In the morning Kitty still could not be found, until around noon when I looked out the back door and there he was.

prettykitty

Playing peek-a-boo

Snubbing his nose at us as if to say, “Aren’t I a clever cat”?

Hubby’s new idea is that the cat ran into the raccoon. “Maybe that’s how he got outside.”

“Wait a minute.  If it’s been under the house for so long then what’s it been living off?”

“Hum. I haven’t caught any rats in a while.”

Great!  Apparently while I sleep there’s a party going on beneath me. Cats, rats, raccoons and skunks.  Did I mention that we keep our wine in the cellar?

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If he can wrestle crocodiles, I reckon he can take on a raccoon!

Never fear.  We’ve called in Crocodile Dundee to track the wild beast down. Who knows?  Maybe it’s a drunken kangaroo and he’ll know just what to do.

I’ll let you know how that goes.

I Smell Like a Skunk

 It’s a terrible thing to smell like a skunk.  To have your cat smell like a skunk and your house smell like a skunk.  And nothing I’ve tried thus far has had any effect at all…

skunk

From what I’ve read – here, there and everywhere – skunks are not aggressive animals.  They only use their special scent when threatened, the reason being that once the spray is gone, it takes up to ten days for the gland to fill again.

Of course, the first thing I did upon realizing some skunk had sprayed our front door was to find every scented candle I’ve ever received – generally at Christmas gift swaps – and set them ablaze around the house.  The living room got Cappuccino, the bedroom

Didn't do a thing to distill the smell but did manage to set off the smoke alarm.

Didn’t do a thing to lessen the smell but did manage to set off the smoke alarm.

where I write, Scents of the Sea, the kitchen Cinnamon Delight, etc.  This method for skunk smell removal only works if you’ve got your nose in the candle which I do not recommend as I burnt the tip of my nose and almost caught my nasal hairs on fire.

Next I googled “how to get rid of a skunk smell.”  As expected, the first links that popped up were Pest Removal ads.  Yikes!  Can you imagine spending your days removing skunks from basements and attics?  Still, if you are a successful skunk removal expert I bet you could interest Hollywood in a new reality show “Skunk Dynasty.”  I mean the duck men have their dynasty, why not the skunk men? 

The ads were followed by several home-spun remedies, some resembling chemistry experiments.  Having done poorly at chemistry, I passed on any remedy that could potentially blow the roof off the house.

This one from Lynn’s Kitchen Adventures looked safe enough.  So I filled every small bowl I could find with vinegar and set them around the house. This, for some reason, drove my husband crazy.  He hates the smell of vinegar even more than eau de skunk.  So I returned to my scented candles.  The hope is eventually they will work.  Otherwise, I guess I’ll just have to get used to smelling like a skunk.

Here are some interesting things about skunks I found during my research:

  • The name “skunk” has Native American roots: skonks in Mohegan, škakw in Lenape, squnck in Wampanoag, zhigaag in Ojibwe, etc. The Indians have countless tales about the skunk, some tribes believing them to be monsters and others, good luck.  The Cherokee hung dead skunks outside their teepees believing they would ward off disease. Sounds very hygienic!  But the myth I found most disturbing was of a giant skunk so powerful he could shoot his spray across the ocean.  I don’t know about you, but I’d rather face King Kong than Stinkzilla. 
  • Early Jesuits believed that when Saint Catherine de smelt sin, it had the same vile odor as a skunk.
    I feel your pain!

    I feel your pain!  Painting is the Passion of Saint Catherine

    Poor lady, no wonder she suffered so.  There was probably a lot of sin going around.

  • Charles Darwin encountered stink “clouds”  so virulent upon his entrance into MonteVideo harbor that he almost turned away.  Apparently they didn’t like foreigners!  MonteVideo looks like a beautiful town but I think I’ll pass on a harbor cruise.