Just Another Skunk Story

Not a skunk, but a sweet little black and white moth.

This shot is more black and rosy.

I have to get all these skunk stories out of my system!

Long, oh, so long ago, Eeyore was maried to someone else. I'll call her R. She was a pixie-like charmer who considered herself a great authority on animals and was, indeed, an animal lover.

One day, E. and R. were driving past the local hospital on Willow Creek Road. For those of you who live in Prescott, Willow Creek Road was then a two lane, paved road that ran between rows of giant cottonwood trees. There were grassy ditches alongside the road that drained into that catch area the City has now planted with cattails and trees. There was a pasture that was kept green by artesian seepage where the helo-pad and parking lot are now. A beautiful chestnut, mare used to graze there.........

Well, E. and R. spotted a skunk in the ditch by the Hospital. As a rule, skunks just don't go out in the daytime, so animal lovers and observers that they were, they stopped to take a closer look at this phenomenon. They soon saw that this skunk was blind. Heavy scar tissue sealed both of it's eyes.

"This skunk is someones's lost, deoderized pet," decided R. "A blind skunk could never survive in the wild for any length of time." Striding fearlessly up to the creature, she picked it up by the tail, climbed out of the ditch, and deposited it in the back of their pickup truck.

"We have to save it," she said.

This created a problem for them as they lived in Chino Valley, about sixteen miles to the north, and they were in route to Bagdad about fifty miles to the west.

As the skunk bumbled about in the back of their truck, they debated their course of action.

Just around the corner, on Iron Springs Road, Prescott Animal Hospital existed in approxomately the same spot that it does today. They decided to leave the skunk there since, at that time, that's where the dog pound was located. Surely, anyone seeking a lost pet would check with the pound first. If it was not claimed, they would take it as a pet for themselves.

At the Animal Hospital, R., carrying the skunk by the tail, plunked it on the counter. The Veterinarian on duty that day, a kind man and excellent Vet., now retired, was dubious about taking the skunk, but they persuaded him, saying that they would stop back to pick it up. He found a box and R. picked up the skunk and placed it in the box.

Saying their goodbyes, they headed out the door as the good Dr. carried the box back to the impound area. When he entered the impound area all the dogs started barking. Immediately, that horrible, pervasive odor of spraying skunk poured forth. Looking at one another in shocked surprise, E. and R. made an instant decision.

"Sorry, Doc," they called as they beat their cowardly retreat.

It is to that Veterinarian's credit that he seemed never to hold a grudge, and continued caring for all of E.'s animals until his retirement.

People used to have the scent gland removed from baby skunks and raise them as pets, but I believe that's now, against the law.
That's my favorite funny skunk story. Stay tuned for a grim look at the part skunks played in the settlement of Prescott.