Wildlife

Dear Jack,

I think I have just completed the mandatory course of country living. Up until now, I have simply been a lost city girl parading around Salado as nothing more than someone who thought she truly didn't belong there. I mean, every time I see a deer in the road, I freeze up, slam on my brakes, and pray that it runs the other way. I've seen squirrels, wild birds (turkeys!), armadillos, a squished turtle or two, but tonight took the cake.

Tonight I was silent witness to the running of the skunk.

Everyone with a nose knows that they exist. Every now and again there is a smell emanating from a dark carcass on the side of the road, but a real, live skunk? Never. They are the chupacabra of country living, the Loch Ness Monster. A legend of mythic proportions, something one knows exists, but never actually sees.

I don't know what scared this little guy, but shy friend of Bambi, this Flower was not. As I was driving home tonight, I slowed on Center Circle, scanning the sides of the road closely for deer when all of a sudden he (for I have deemed him male whether or not he likes it) bolted from the side of the road. Of course, my first thought was "Deer!", but then my brain caught up with my reflexes and I realized that the "deer" was a little short. And dark, and had a bizarre white stripe any hairstylist would love to study and attempt to duplicate to create Hollywood's next hair craze.

He was gone before I could really get a good look at him, but I couldn't get over the fact that I had seen a skunk. I guess there's a first time for everything.

Now if only I knew whether or not this encounter would bring about luck of any kind.

Always,
John