Smell ya’ later …

Stop the Presses column by Chris Graham

Ever been terrorized by skunks?

Yeah. It’s no fun.

I’m a prisoner in my house. And keep in mind, I live downtown. Not exactly a natural habitat for skunks.

(Well, City Hall is down at the end of the block …)


I didn’t need to say much else.

My wife had just had me walk down the street with her to make copies at the Wayne Theatre office.

“I don’t like walking down the street at night.”

That’s code for “You’re going, buster. No bones about it.”

“You make your copies. I’ll take the pooch for a walk down to City Hall,” I volunteered.

That had been the plan, anyway.

That was before …


Two of them, for the record. Promenading down the sidewalk in the direction of City Hall.

(And this sighting coming just a few days after I almost ran over two skunks that I can only describe as canoodling in the middle of Rosser Avenue near Westwood Hills Elementary School. Which has to make one wonder … are multiple skunk sightings harbingers of doom? Considering what happened Tuesday morning …)

I ran into the Wayne office, taking the Benzi with me.

“We’re going to have to live here. I’m not leaving this office!” I declared, and I meant it, too.

Seriously, two skunks? I had no chance, not carrying a dog prone to the yips, and not the golf kind.

“I’m calling the po-lice,” I said, prompting my wife to ask me what the police would do if I called them.

“They’d … they have an animal-control officer. Plus, they get paid to deal with … skunk funk. Don’t they?”

Probably not. But neither do I.

And I had to take the dog for a more formal, you know, walk later, too.

“Can’t she just … do her business in the house tonight?”

I should have known better than to have even suggested, of course.

Out we went – though not on our usual tour of the downtown.

“Right there. Right now.”
The Benz did her thing, and we made it back inside without needing the first of several tomato-juice baths.

But I’m not out of the woods yet, not by a long shot.

Another walk will have to be made tomorrow morning.

Smell ya’ later …

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