Skunk - 2, Chicken Mama - 1

Notice what time I'm writing this, will you?

I got home late tonight, a little before midnight.  I was purdy darn tired and ready to tumble into bed, but the reason (even after leaving work at a decent hour) was a good one:  my folks and I had a spontaneous & lovely 2-hour chat / catch-up over a bottle of vino.


So, why the extra late hour now?  Well, you did read the title of this post, didn't you?

During the usual flurry of 22 legs entering and exiting the door all at once upon my arrival (2 dogs, 3 cats, 1 human), and after my 2nd load from the truck (car's waiting to get into the doctor), I scooped Annie Blue up to give her some love.  The smell of her fur is one of my most favorites in the world:  it smells like clean (not wet!) wool.  Burying my nose into the scruff of her neck, I smelled a light but particularly identifiable smell.  "Ohhh, sh*t."  I dropped her down and rushed to the door . . . to find Tucker skooching his face all over the yard.  Sh*t, sh*t, SH*T!  

Okay, think!  Tomato juice?  Nope, Clamato.  Nottttt the same.  Wait, do I still have . . . YES, I did!  The bottle of de-skunk stuff I'd bought a couple of years ago was right where it should be with all the other animal ointments and sprays.  

Now, me!  Okay, out of your clothes!  Grabbed an old pair of Tom's shorts & a T-shirt that could be thrown away.

Now, grab Tucker.  (Skunk must surely be long gone by now.)  Liberally douse Tucker and rub, rub, rub the stuff in and down to his skin (muttering out loud about how happy I was that I'd had him shaved not too long ago).  Where did the skunk get him?  Oh!  RIGHT!  That dripping stream of green right there on the side of his neck!  Of course!

Okay, Maisy?  Get in the house!  

And there she was at the door waiting like a good dog, smiling . . . green skunk juice dripping off her nose.  Of course.

Note to self:  skunk is NOT yet gone.  

Where are the other three animals?  Riiiight, still outside.  Of course.

Liberally apply de-skunking agent to Maisy, wondering when the *#@! the neutralizing agents will kick in?!

Walk into the sunroom and notice how STRONG the smell is in there!  What the?!  Did the damn thing spray the HOUSE?

"Maisy & Tucker, STAY in the house!"  Armed in my T-shirt and shorts (did I mention that it's barely above 40 out?) and a flashlight, I go exploring.  Underneath the trees juuust outside the sunroom window, I hear a rustle.  YEP, there you are, you little . . . !  Ohhh, and look, there's Bonzi, two feet in front of you, hissing at you with her hair on end.

"Sssst, sst!  Bonzi!  Come!"

Fortunately, since I treat / train cats the same way as I do dogs (I know no other way!), she does.  Okay, back 'round the house and toss her inside.

Out and around the house to the big deck again, and there's Dosie, taking up where her big sister left off!  "Dosie?  Come!"  Second cat in house, check.  Where's Annie Blue?  I dunno, but I have bigger fish to fry!  (Besides, I'd like to think she's a little more "traveled" and world-wise than the two little ones.)

Back inside for my "take care of the situation" equipment, and a quick, "Sorry*, little guy," and that was that.  (Which is a little ironic considering what he/she had just done, but still, a life is a life.)

Anyway, that was the fattest skunk I have ever seen!  I actually palpitated its stomach to see if there were babies in there (although it's the wrong time of the year for that), but nuthin', fortunately.  However, the fact that it didn't skeedaddle DOES worry me a little . . . although it did look extremely healthy - very white teeth and all.  But, skunks do carry rabies, don't they?  Tucker is due for his rabies shot in mid October and Maisy's has already lapsed.  Annnnd, Maisy did have a 1/4" piece of skin taken off the end of her nose.  Hmm.  Yuck.  I'll probably call the local vet (even tho I can hardly stand the idiot, and the lack of admiration seems to be county-wide) tomorrow to run the situation by her to see what she recommends.  (Haven't YET gotten my passport renewed so haven't gotten the animals to their regular & EXCELLENT vet who is in Canada.)  And, I'll save the skunk:  it can be checked for rabies, if necessary.


I almost wonder if one of the dogs injured it and that's why it wasn't running away, but there weren't any obvious injuries.  I'll examine it better tomorrow (today) - doing so tonight wasn't terribly high on my list of to-dos.

I'll think I'll try to drown my pillow in essential oil tonight and try to sleep.  Or puke.  It's a toss-up.  You wouldn't BELIEVE what this house smells like.


(Pictures tomorrow.)

Mother Nature's a . . . .

Just as equally as I thank Mother Nature for allowing me to witness Parenting In The Wild at its best, so do I struggle with her lesson that Only The Strong Survive.

While 'Black Duck with White Bib' was easily visible tonight when I returned home from work to do chores (I still have NO idea where she was this morning), I drew up absolutely short when I stepped into the chicken house to check on my broody mama and her babes.

From the door, I could easily see that she wasn't on her nest. What the . . . ?! As I drew closer, I saw that all the eggs were still there . . . a HUGE batch of them: nearly enough to completely rebuild my flock. With trepidation, I took my glove off and reached out a hand. The eggs were cold. Stone cold.

A sound pulled my eyes down . . . and there was Mama, huddled in a corner, protecting her single live chick. I scooped her up and then grabbed Baby, stuffing them both back into the nest. Then, just as s/he must have done earlier today, Baby walked right to the edge of the nest box, hopped up on the Plywood "railing" . . . and fell 3 feet down to the floor.

Ahhh, I get it. Even though Mama was trying - HAD been trying for the last few weeks - to bring over a dozen babies into the world . . . when she saw the single live chick inadvertently "fly the coop" down to the scary, big world of the floor, she went after him. Unfortunately, it was at the expense of the rest of the chicks-to-be. :(

And, all my hopes of lots of cheeping, peeping babies fell along with little Mister / Miss Adventuresome.

I know it's desperate and not at all a possibility, but I still have that shred of hope . . . . So, I took all the ice cold eggs along with Mama and Baby and safely installed them in the little brooder (tiny coop). When I left them, she was tucking as many of the eggs as would fit back underneath her.

So sad. But, this, too, is Life on the Farm. Take it or leave it. As the saying goes, "If you keep livestock, you'll also have dead stock."