#54-THE NOT SO SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS (Part 1)

                                                   PART 2 is comming up soon.

While living Southern California in the early seventies I encountered a malodorous situation  Our duplex was in a small development that lay at the base of an undeveloped hill.  

          In the middle of the night I heard a squabble between two animals who had somehow gotten under the house.  They chose to disagree directly below my bedroom. The major  problem occurred when they decided to punctuate their ire with an unmistakable odor.  Aawwwwwh, mannnnn, skunk!

           At work the next morning I called the animal control office and alerted them to my fetid problem.  They promised to drop by that morning and set a trap.  I had an 11:30 lunch hour so I ran home to talk to the guy.

          The officer baited the trap with a raw egg and stuck it under the house.  Sure enough, by the time I got home there was a black and white critter in the trap.  I left my guest in the trap, called the officer, and asked him to meet me at my place the next day at four. 

          The next afternoon I went home early, watched as he pulled the trap from under the house, and viewed the beautiful, shiny-coated animal.  I asked him to return it to the hills.  He immediately replied, “No way lady, I’m not stinkin’ up my truck!”

          When I asked him what he usually does he said, “Well, I can just shoot the thing right where it sits!”

          Visions of school children witnessing the carnage filled my mind (a small crowd had already gathered to view the event) and before I could think I blurted out, “NOT MY SKUNK!”  (emphasis on the word MY).  He threw up his hands, shook his head, laughed, and left.  Now I had a small problem to solve; what was I to do with MY skunk?

          I laid down in the grass on my belly (at a respectable distance of course) while eying the pusillanimous polecat (and formulated a plan).  I was struck by the fact that it was very small and young which made me all the more determined to orchestrate a positive outcome.  The plan involved a large trash can (with a lid), another egg, old clothes and major guts (mine)!

          I slid up to the cage on my stomach while talking softly to the adorable creature

By this time I had drawn an audience of about 30 people.  The small frightened animal raised its rear end and patted its sweet, tiny, front feet at me as a warning.  Undaunted by its display I inched forward and paused every time it tapped its tiny feet.  Eventually, we were almost nose to nose.  It had retreated to the back of the cage which gave me room to release the door catch.  I then slid the garbage can up to the door, righted the trash can, and slammed the lid home.  Applause erupted from the crowd.  I bowed and announced (with a Porky Pig stutter), “Ttttthat's all, folks.”

          
(Oh, this one is a little too long!   I am going to need to finish it tomorrow.  (THE BEST IS YET TO COME!   TRUST ME!) 
kt2010