There are just some things you can count on in DeKalb County. Good people, good football, kudzu, and roadkill. Armadillos, opossums, and skunks are at the top of the list. The smell of skunks is unmistakable. It is powerful, lasts a very long time, and seems to stick to your car as you drive by. Unfortunately, if you are anywhere close, the smell makes a home in your nose and stays there for a long time.
One year when I was about 3 years-old, my Uncle Irby caught an unusual looking skunk in a trap. We lived right across the road, so he brought it over to show my dad. My sister, Joyce, who was about 10 years-old, and I went out to the front yard to see this creature. Mom, dad and Irby were standing several feet away, while Joyce and I kneeled close to the cage. The creature was indeed unusual, larger than a cat and colored black, with white spots. We were fascinated and were focused only on the animal, totally unprepared, as children often are, for what was about to happen.
We had a big, black, mixed-breed dog with a short tail, creatively named ‘Bob.” Well Bob just happened to come around from the back of the house. He saw the skunk and ran toward the cage barking. Naturally, the skunk was scared and sprayed its cologne, all over Joyce and me. We jumped up and ran to mom, and she promptly led us to the back yard. I do not remember what was said, I couldn’t hear words over the screaming anyway, I was the one screaming. She made us take off all our clothes and put us in a large washtub. She used all the tomatoes she had canned that year, pouring the juice over us and using the pieces of tomatoes as scrub brushes. After that we took a bath in regular water, more scrubbing, this time with a real brush. Memory fails me after all that trauma, but she eventually let us enter the house and then proceeded to burn our clothes.
All I remember of our dad and uncle is that they were smart enough to be well outside of the crossfire. Mom, saint that she was, volunteered to take the skunk to the creek nearby to release it. When she got close to the creek and opened the cage door, old Bob made one more run at the skunk. It did not spray mom; this time it had a direct shot at Bob. But mom was close and started gagging from the odor, she gagged so hard that her false teeth came out and bounced toward the creek!
There are many things that I have forgotten, events that faded into history, but every time I smell that unique odor, I remember the time my sister and I were skunked.
One year when I was about 3 years-old, my Uncle Irby caught an unusual looking skunk in a trap. We lived right across the road, so he brought it over to show my dad. My sister, Joyce, who was about 10 years-old, and I went out to the front yard to see this creature. Mom, dad and Irby were standing several feet away, while Joyce and I kneeled close to the cage. The creature was indeed unusual, larger than a cat and colored black, with white spots. We were fascinated and were focused only on the animal, totally unprepared, as children often are, for what was about to happen.
We had a big, black, mixed-breed dog with a short tail, creatively named ‘Bob.” Well Bob just happened to come around from the back of the house. He saw the skunk and ran toward the cage barking. Naturally, the skunk was scared and sprayed its cologne, all over Joyce and me. We jumped up and ran to mom, and she promptly led us to the back yard. I do not remember what was said, I couldn’t hear words over the screaming anyway, I was the one screaming. She made us take off all our clothes and put us in a large washtub. She used all the tomatoes she had canned that year, pouring the juice over us and using the pieces of tomatoes as scrub brushes. After that we took a bath in regular water, more scrubbing, this time with a real brush. Memory fails me after all that trauma, but she eventually let us enter the house and then proceeded to burn our clothes.
All I remember of our dad and uncle is that they were smart enough to be well outside of the crossfire. Mom, saint that she was, volunteered to take the skunk to the creek nearby to release it. When she got close to the creek and opened the cage door, old Bob made one more run at the skunk. It did not spray mom; this time it had a direct shot at Bob. But mom was close and started gagging from the odor, she gagged so hard that her false teeth came out and bounced toward the creek!
There are many things that I have forgotten, events that faded into history, but every time I smell that unique odor, I remember the time my sister and I were skunked.
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Lonnie McKelvey is a freelance writer from Fort Payne, Alabama, and is a regular contributor to Grandparents Day Magazine. |
