nice kitty

these were at a furniture store on route 28. free to a good home. they are very soft and quite cuddly.
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the nephew called after the early part of this post. he was worried about me. so here’s what happened.

i grew up around plenty of wildish animals. my cousin carl lee showed up at a family reunion with a handful of baby raccoons and even before that my dad brought us tiny rabbits to raise. there were birds- all sorts of birds. dad once took us to see a friend who had a three legged deer. there was always some misfit creature busting out of the wild and becoming part of civilization. silly things.

so today when we stopped at an amish furniture store we weren’t all that surprised to see seven baby skunks curled up together under the front porch. now, i’ve seen plenty of skunks at a distance and once, up close. i was living in ann arbor and working a 6am shift at a bookstore. i didn’t drive and the buses didn’t run at 5am, so i walked the two or so miles into downtown most mornings in pitch darkness. it saw me first. it was in the foresty brambles next to my house and i was on the sidewalk, but this was enough for it to take action. i wasn't expecting a skunk to lift up on his front paws, butt in the air, to attack, but this one did. because what sort of idiot would do that, really? a skunk. i do not remember moving at all but found myself walking down the opposite side of the street a few moments later, so i must have moved fast.

but the human instinct to move toward baby mammals is overwhelming. my knowledge of skunkings and my own narrow escape could not stop the “oh, how precious!” that squealed from me as we walked up the low ramp to the porch of the store. precious. skunks. but they are. much cuter than kittens, with thicker fur and those magnificent fat tails. they are like some cute cute cute cute cute kitten crossed with the most adorable adorable adorable adorable dog. oh! precious! when we walked in the sweetie asked about the skunks and the owner, a gruff marine type, said, “i suppose i ought to do something about those,” and got up to go outside. i was imagining. he would put them in a sack and throw them in the river. he would shoot them. cook them. set his dogs on them for fun. i could tell by his tone those poor baby skunks were headed down an ugly road.

we looked up as he came back in, arms full of skunks. “how many were there?” again in that scary old marine guy voice. seven, i told him. his voice didn’t fool me anymore. i’ve seen plenty of grown folks with armfuls of baby wild animals. it turns them stupid to carry around little beasts. he tossed them into a wooden toy chest and went out for the other two. one bit him, which seemed to delight him. he’d had two skunks as pets long ago. while i sat by the box to pet the little babies (because all baby animals will be miserable if you don’t cuddle on them as soon as you see them) he disappeared and came back with a cold chicken leg. exactly what skunks eat in the wild. when i asked what made him decide on skunks as pets he said he didn’t know. he used the word “hell” a lot when he talked. probably the same thing that made him buy two hogs, then more, then a bunch of cows. craziness. but cows are different from skunks and the two sorts of crazy aren’t even neighbors.

he said he’d call animal control later, but you can tell by looking at them he’s going to end up keeping all seven. i would, if the dogs would let me.