Welcome to the Country

Thought I'd share a story. Last night the little woman with a fierce bark was here giving me an earful until well after dark. As she's leaving, my husband goes out to his truck that's parked in the garage. As he opens the door and begins to take the first step down into the garage he yells and slams the door. The MAN that he is, of course, calls for his wife and so I come check out the commotion. There is the most adorable, innocent, baby skunk in our garage sniffing around. It seems there is a bag of garbage that is tantalizing her little nostrils - discarded chicken bones from my world famous wings. (they really are world famous - I've made them, with rave reviews, for scads of basketball players all over Europe. Okay, not scads and not all over but you get my drift). Papa to the rescue - even after 11pm. He tells me over the phone to try scaring it with a cup of water - no, the little thing just started drinking it. Must be that buffalo sauce. Finally, a brightly colored, waving, beach towel gets her attention and I'm able to shoo her from the garage. After that's over Dad says "Now for the hard part...." He wants me to kill it. He's the same one that sent me to butcher a chicken with a dull knife because he thought it would be funny. My husband doesn't think I have it in me. He certainly doesn't have it. I take my baseball bat outside but the little bugger was on to me. Or, maybe I let it run away. It was on the porch when I woke this morning and it was sniffing my sliding glass doors while I was watching the 11 o'clock news tonight.

Gotta get up the nerve before the adorable little thing learns how to use it's stinker.