Pepe Le Pew Lives Under My Porch

[mousme]

So I was walking home from work last night and turned to walk up my stairs, when I caught sight of movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head to get a better look, and saw only a flash of black and white fur and the swish of a tail before whatever it was disappeared under the front porch. A cat, was my first thought. After all, we have plenty of strays to go around. The gait wasn't quite right, though: a bit like a roly-poly sailor's gait more than the graceful-but-guilty-looking slink of the average alley cat.

My curiosity piqued, I investigated, suspicions already aroused as to what it might be. Sure enough, blinking calmly at me from its vantage point under the porch, was a skunk. It regarded me with mild interest, and I didn't try to get too close (work clothes + skunk = baaaaad). It didn't stamp its feet or raise its tail, which I know are the classic signs of "Come one step closer and I'll nail you!" from a skunk (I did a project on them back in elementary school), but I didn't especially want to try my luck with it.

So I left Pepe to his (her?) business, and went upstairs. I like seeing city wildlife: it reminds me that we're not nearly as far removed from nature as we think, even in the midst of the concrete jungle.

Comments

[sultrysong.livejournal.com]

We have a skunk, too. Last summer there were two of them, and they'd fight like cats in the night except that they were louder and meaner. My bride read somewhere that you should never freeze when you see a skunk, cuz that's when they'll let loose on you. I just give ours a wide berth and we get along fine.

A few years ago, she got our dog and I ended up at a Pharmaprix in the middle of the night buying dish soap and peroxide to get the smell out. That was a good night.