Nose Knows

I have lived in cities most of my life. I have, however, had encounters with wildlife where one would least expect to find them. Currently, my husband and I live in a complex that backs to a small woods and a ravine. My nose tells me we have had a visit from a skunk. Its odor reminded me of my last encounter with a skunk.

When I first moved to Northern Virginia, I was employed by the PX on a large Army post. I worked in the Home and Garden store. I had keys to the building and usually, I was the first to arrive for work.

There had been a period of several days of very heavy rainfall. Just to the left of the rear entrance to the building, a quite large and deep hole had formed, and filled with rainwater. The maintenance personnel had been unable to repair the hole due to the continued rainfall.

On this particular morning, the rain had finally stopped. I was approaching the building when a movement caught my eye.

I looked to my left, and there, in that hole was what I thought was a baby skunk. I had never seen a skunk up close so I did not know that skunks' heads are small. All I could see was this skunk's head and paws as it tried desperately to crawl out of the hole. Its eyes were filled with terror. The sides of the hole were slick and the skunk could not get a grip to pull itself out. It was frantically pawing at the sides of the hole, slipping down, its head going underwater, and then its head would pop up again as it tried to claw its way out.

I knew enough not to get too close to it and at the same time, I was filled with compassion for the animal as it so desperately fought to survive.

I looked around to find something that I might use to aid the skunk in its efforts to get out of the hole. Nearby, I found a large board, apparently left from the construction of a patio area for employees.

I picked up the board and laid it across the hole, thinking the skunk could crawl up on it. The skunk could not make use of the board. I realized if I could get the board under the skunk and lift it up, it may have a chance to escape.

It took me several tries to get one end of the board under the skunk. As I was working on this, a co-worker had come up behind me. I did not know she was there. I used the board as a kind of fulcrum, one end under the water, part of it resting on the side of the hole, and the opposite end in my hands.

When I felt the skunk's body on the board, I gave a mighty push on my end of the board and the skunk popped up and out of the water. It was then that I saw it was no baby. When the board hit the bottom of the skunk's body, the skunk had an automatic reflex, if you know what I mean.

As the skunk scurried away, I turned around, gagging from the skunk's response to being saved and saw my co-worker. She was standing there in total disbelief. "I thought it was a baby." was all I could say.

She promised me she would not tell anyone. We went inside. As time passed, the skunk's response permeated the building and co-workers were coughing and gagging. I knew my co-worker finally told the others what I had done because I began to hear my co-workers exclaim, "She did WHAT?" I endured much teasing and dirty looks. I also gained the reputation of "skunk saver".

None of that mattered. For some reason, fate had put the life of that skunk in my hands that day. I learned that full-grown skunks have little heads and I experienced compassion for one of God's creatures.