Stinker
Crossing our yard one day I chanced to look down and spy a small, black object unmoving in the dirt. Curious, I walked closer and exclaimed in wonder for it was a tiny, baby skunk - hairless, eyes not yet opened. Thinking it dead, I reached out with one finger to touch it, and it moved! Every maternal instinct in me screaming now, I picked up the pathetic little thing and walked back to the house wondering how in the world I was going to care for it. It was so cold, and so tiny, I doubted it would make it through another day.
Once inside the house, I wrapped it in a towel and blew gently on it to try and bring some warmth into that small body. The tiny thing squirmed a little, but it made no sound. Scrounging on the back porch I came up with the bag of powdered milk replacer for calves from last winter and took out a little bit to mix up. Not having any tiny bottles, I wet the corner of the towel with warm milk and dribbled someinto the small mouth. I patiently fed the little creature for some time, hopingthe milkwas actually being swallowed and notjust running down its chin into the towel.
Feeling somewhat discouraged - how often do you feed skunks? What should you feed skunks? And it is a skunk after all, what was I going to do with it? I remembered that one of the barn cats had just had kittens. Surely? Not daring to hope I took the baby skunk out to the barn where a calico cat lay in the straw of the manger with 5 smaller versions of herself. They didn't have their eyes open either, but at least they had fur. I placed little "Stinker" down in the straw with the other kittens and quietly left the barn.
Several hours later I returned to check on my little Stinker. My calico cat had pushed him out of hercozy nest and he lay cold and forlorn off by himself. I'll try one more time, I thought to myself pushing him back in amongst the other kittens.
When I returned in the morning, there was Stinker, nursing right along with the other kittens and as I watched, my calico cat reached down and swiped his nakedblack head with her rough tongue.
From then on my calico cat raised little Stinker. I watched in delight as he grew a skunk's characteristic black and white fur and his eyes opened at about the same time as the kitten's. The kittens and the skunk played together, rolling in the straw and gnawing one another's feet and tails and ears. Stinker never made any noise that I could tell, just complacently ate and played alongside his "brothers and sisters".
Occasionally I would pick him up, always a little hesitant - he wasn't very cuddly - and I didn't want him too friendly with me, and then put him back down, where he would commence the curious stamping dance that skunks give just before displaying their posterior and spraying you with that lovely scent.
The kittens and the skunk were by now escaping from the manger and running wild around the barn. I picked Stinker up for the last time. I say the last time, because while I had him hanging there in front of my face, staring into his beady little black eyes, he sprayed me! The little stream of liquid hit the side of my face and burned! And stank! Laughing I took Stinker outside and let him go. I carefully piled some cat food outside by the barn wall and chuckling to myself at my close call (what if he had sprayed my hair?), I thought go free Stinker!
A couple of weeks later as the husband and I were driving down the dirt road we spotted a skunk - "don't hit Stinker!" I cried, trying to grab the wheel. Of course, this was a full grown skunk, but nonetheless, we have watched out for Stinker ever since. And maybe that is why the cat food disappears so surreptitiously at times...Stinker in the night.