You just can't make this shit up
My Dad wrote this to me in order to explain what he wanted for Father's Day and his birthday (a donation to a charity in his name). This is the story that he decided to send my sisters, brother and I as a way of explaining.
I have all of my life had a mortal fear of skunks. Growing up in the Wasaga Beach area, I learned a healthy respect for these creatures.
We have all heard the phrase “dirty rotten skunk”. When someone is fooled, often they say they were “skunked”. Truth is, skunks are not popular. I doubt anyone has held a surprise party for one.
This is a story about one who lived next door to me under the porch.
We first met one sunny summer evening. I was squatting on the driveway, talking with my wife, when I heard the sound of an animal’s toenails on the driveway. Assuming it was the local cat that would visit from time to time I turned to welcome her.
A skunk was about six feet from me, walking on a collision course. As it was twilight, her vision was not good, so she had lowered her head, moving on. I remember thinking that she looked very serious, but surprisingly cute. She couldn’t see me.
I could see her. I also couldn’t move.
My mind was occupied with reruns of all the cartoons I had seen as a child, involving “Le Skunk de Pew”. Finally, when she was about one foot away, I grabbed my wife and ran into the house, expecting an event behind me. Not this time.
A few weeks later, I was out on my porch when she decided to leave her area next to me. She had moved in under the neighbour’s porch. She stopped, surprised to see me, I saw that she had a surprise for me too. She was pregnant. Very pregnant. Also very close to my position and no doubt in a defensive mood. I was doomed. Skunks can spray you very well if you are within ten feet. I was about three. I had no idea what to do. Fortunately, my body took over. At times of great stress, our bodies often know what the best approach is, even if our minds have emptied in fear.
I passed wind.
It was a mighty wind. I was impressed. So was she. She quickly left.
Have to wonder what my body would make me do if I saw a shark, but I digress.
That began an interesting summer. Afraid I would accidently run into her again, I began to talk to her each night as I came home. I imagined her listening under the porch, so I would wish her a good evening, ask about her children and any other small talk. I would tell her to be careful when she was out at night, When I did see her, she would briefly catch my eye and then leave. I truly believe that she grew to like the sound of my voice, and would listen when we were talking with others as well. One night she heard the voice of one of our friends and followed him home. He did not seem to find that amusing.
One night when I came home I noticed that the entrance to her lair was blocked. I wondered where she went. Do skunks have alternate housing? Later that day, I went out to the garage to get something. In the dark. Twice. Not knowing that she had moved in. I found out when I saw her footsteps in the snow leaving later that night. I had spent time right beside where she was hiding. I still have trouble going into the garage.
A few days later, when we were out on the porch, my wife and I suddenly realized that we had company. She was on a hill a few feet away, just staring at us. I instantly knew that she was asking for help to go home. I promised her I would try to help her and she left.
The weather actually was the solution. The rain washed away the blockage and she was able to gain entry. My wife, standing out on the porch, was surprised to se a skunk dancing on her feet. Thinking she had been helped by us, she was thanking my wife and sending a message of joy.
I did worried constantly that she would not welcome visitors to our house, or worse, that she would.
One day I came home and knew something was wrong. I still can’t explain why, but I knew she was gone. I never saw her again. After several months passed, we sealed the entrance to the porch. No one else will live there. There will never be another like her.
I know that what is in the past can’t be changed, but I agonize about how she died. Did she die in pain, did she cry out in fear, did she suffer. Was it quick, or did she die a lingering death, alone. It haunts me. I see the dead ones at the side of the road. At first I wondered if one of them was her. Now I wonder if it is one of her children. Or their children.
To be clear, I never lost sight of the fact that she was a creature of the wild. I never gave her a name. She was not my pet. Wild animals live short, danger-filled lives. Civilization has robbed them of their habitats, their ability to live the lives they deserve and their dignity.
I still think of her daily when I walk by her former home. Was she really that much different? She enjoyed the conversations of her neighbours. She raised a family. When she was unable to go home, she stayed over at a friend’s house. She asked for help. When she got back in, she shared her joy.
And now she is gone. There are those who would say that she was unique, but they are very, very wrong. I believe that all of the wild, no matter the size or species, have feelings, are social, love and are loved. Remember the old song-be kind to your four-footed friends, for one may be somebody’s mother…
The good news is there is an organization, the Aspen Valley Wildlife Sanctuary, that cares for those of the wild who have been hurt, abandoned or lost their caregivers due to misfortune. The organization is available online and please review their wish list. CTV broadcast an hour showing their good works. It may be available to watch on their website.
This is the cause of my life.
To my family and friends I respectfully request that instead of cards or gifts you may plan to give me on the events in my life, my birthday, Father’s day etc. you either donate money or items to this organization. This year, I received a wonderful gift from my daughter Heather before I could write this, so not only will I enjoy the gift but I will be sending money to Aspen in her name. There are so many things they need, blankets, food and of course money. Any budget can contribute to them and in turn the creatures of the wild.
I hope that I live another fifty years (well maybe not quite) but after my passing as my final request, I would like you all to donate to them in lieu of flowers. It is comforting to know that my death will bring life to one of those creatures. Or maybe a better life.
The Aspen Valley Wildlife Sanctuary can be found at www.aspenvalleywildlifesanctuary.com.
I have all of my life had a mortal fear of skunks. Growing up in the Wasaga Beach area, I learned a healthy respect for these creatures.
We have all heard the phrase “dirty rotten skunk”. When someone is fooled, often they say they were “skunked”. Truth is, skunks are not popular. I doubt anyone has held a surprise party for one.
This is a story about one who lived next door to me under the porch.
We first met one sunny summer evening. I was squatting on the driveway, talking with my wife, when I heard the sound of an animal’s toenails on the driveway. Assuming it was the local cat that would visit from time to time I turned to welcome her.
A skunk was about six feet from me, walking on a collision course. As it was twilight, her vision was not good, so she had lowered her head, moving on. I remember thinking that she looked very serious, but surprisingly cute. She couldn’t see me.
I could see her. I also couldn’t move.
My mind was occupied with reruns of all the cartoons I had seen as a child, involving “Le Skunk de Pew”. Finally, when she was about one foot away, I grabbed my wife and ran into the house, expecting an event behind me. Not this time.
A few weeks later, I was out on my porch when she decided to leave her area next to me. She had moved in under the neighbour’s porch. She stopped, surprised to see me, I saw that she had a surprise for me too. She was pregnant. Very pregnant. Also very close to my position and no doubt in a defensive mood. I was doomed. Skunks can spray you very well if you are within ten feet. I was about three. I had no idea what to do. Fortunately, my body took over. At times of great stress, our bodies often know what the best approach is, even if our minds have emptied in fear.
I passed wind.
It was a mighty wind. I was impressed. So was she. She quickly left.
Have to wonder what my body would make me do if I saw a shark, but I digress.
That began an interesting summer. Afraid I would accidently run into her again, I began to talk to her each night as I came home. I imagined her listening under the porch, so I would wish her a good evening, ask about her children and any other small talk. I would tell her to be careful when she was out at night, When I did see her, she would briefly catch my eye and then leave. I truly believe that she grew to like the sound of my voice, and would listen when we were talking with others as well. One night she heard the voice of one of our friends and followed him home. He did not seem to find that amusing.
One night when I came home I noticed that the entrance to her lair was blocked. I wondered where she went. Do skunks have alternate housing? Later that day, I went out to the garage to get something. In the dark. Twice. Not knowing that she had moved in. I found out when I saw her footsteps in the snow leaving later that night. I had spent time right beside where she was hiding. I still have trouble going into the garage.
A few days later, when we were out on the porch, my wife and I suddenly realized that we had company. She was on a hill a few feet away, just staring at us. I instantly knew that she was asking for help to go home. I promised her I would try to help her and she left.
The weather actually was the solution. The rain washed away the blockage and she was able to gain entry. My wife, standing out on the porch, was surprised to se a skunk dancing on her feet. Thinking she had been helped by us, she was thanking my wife and sending a message of joy.
I did worried constantly that she would not welcome visitors to our house, or worse, that she would.
One day I came home and knew something was wrong. I still can’t explain why, but I knew she was gone. I never saw her again. After several months passed, we sealed the entrance to the porch. No one else will live there. There will never be another like her.
I know that what is in the past can’t be changed, but I agonize about how she died. Did she die in pain, did she cry out in fear, did she suffer. Was it quick, or did she die a lingering death, alone. It haunts me. I see the dead ones at the side of the road. At first I wondered if one of them was her. Now I wonder if it is one of her children. Or their children.
To be clear, I never lost sight of the fact that she was a creature of the wild. I never gave her a name. She was not my pet. Wild animals live short, danger-filled lives. Civilization has robbed them of their habitats, their ability to live the lives they deserve and their dignity.
I still think of her daily when I walk by her former home. Was she really that much different? She enjoyed the conversations of her neighbours. She raised a family. When she was unable to go home, she stayed over at a friend’s house. She asked for help. When she got back in, she shared her joy.
And now she is gone. There are those who would say that she was unique, but they are very, very wrong. I believe that all of the wild, no matter the size or species, have feelings, are social, love and are loved. Remember the old song-be kind to your four-footed friends, for one may be somebody’s mother…
The good news is there is an organization, the Aspen Valley Wildlife Sanctuary, that cares for those of the wild who have been hurt, abandoned or lost their caregivers due to misfortune. The organization is available online and please review their wish list. CTV broadcast an hour showing their good works. It may be available to watch on their website.
This is the cause of my life.
To my family and friends I respectfully request that instead of cards or gifts you may plan to give me on the events in my life, my birthday, Father’s day etc. you either donate money or items to this organization. This year, I received a wonderful gift from my daughter Heather before I could write this, so not only will I enjoy the gift but I will be sending money to Aspen in her name. There are so many things they need, blankets, food and of course money. Any budget can contribute to them and in turn the creatures of the wild.
I hope that I live another fifty years (well maybe not quite) but after my passing as my final request, I would like you all to donate to them in lieu of flowers. It is comforting to know that my death will bring life to one of those creatures. Or maybe a better life.
The Aspen Valley Wildlife Sanctuary can be found at www.aspenvalleywildlifesanctuary.com.