Skunks
Technology is fun when you know what you are doing--which it appears I do not most of the time. I was having a good time writing on my blog. I even added a frame around it and thought how clever I was to
figure that out. Alas- the next time I went to write, the little "new post" gadget had disappeared. I spent two days trying to get back to the blog page. Decided I had surely been skunked. I wrote to the ever-patient Patty, and once again, she rescued me. So here I am to write in about a different sort of skunks.
I like skunks--the black and white four-legged kind. Have you even seen a California spotted skunk? We had one brought to the vet clinic by a man who moved from California to Vermont. He wanted it de-scented. (We did not do it.) They are small- much smaller than the average house cat, and white with black polka dots. Adorable. And though I am very much against making pets of any wild animal, I have to admit, that would be very tempting.
I have had a few of the close encounter experiences that were not so pleasant. Both times they were due to my presence startling them. They were just protecting themselves with the weapon nature provided. Once when the cows got into the corn field at night, the whole family was out running through shoulder high corn trying to force the errant cows back to the pasture. I had Shep, Dad's cow dog with me. It was dark out there. Suddenly right before us in the row stood a most unfriendly skunk. A big chap, and he was stomping his feet and his tail was high.
I ducked down holding poor Shep in front of me. We both felt the brunt of Mr. Skunk's ire, but Shep got the worst of it. Mother was glad that Shep was not a house dog. She slept in the barn with the cows.
Mother experienced a much nicer encounter with a skunk. One morning as she was in the milk house washing up the milking machines and equipment, she heard a thumping at the door. When she opened the door, there stood a young skunk with his head stuck inside a glass bottle. He just stood there looking at her with plaintive eyes. Mother immediately gathered him up and, wetting his neck fur and the top of his head with the warm soapy water, she gently twisted the jar, easing one little ear out, then the other. The
bottle slipped over the top of his skull, then off down his little pointy nose. Mother set him on the ground outside. He waddled a few steps away, looked back at her, and continued back across the field to the woods. Was he saying thank you?
When I had my own farm, I had goats, horses and hens. I worked until after dark so it was with a lantern that I went to the barn to feed everybody and milk the goats. There were numerous barn cats. I fed them dry cat food in a large round plastic bowl. One evening when I went to the barn I noted a black "kitty"
with a white stripe down his back among the tiger-striped and orange kitties. The newcomer was enjoying the crunchies too. The cats seemed to be unperturbed by his presence. Everyone just ranged about the pan and continued their meal. I walked slowly past, talking softly. Don't recall exactly what words I was saying but probably something like "Oh boy--oh help--be nice little skunk". Little skunk was nice. He stayed with us for many months and never used his "option". Then I decided to take a couple of horses to board.
Fearing that the skunk would object to strangers in his territory in a way only a skunk can, I called a
wildlife rehabilitator. She suggested that I begin offering the skunk candy corn-the kind you have at Halloween! She drove to my farm and left a carrier. Once I had him semi-tamed, I was to place the skunk (with a large helping of the candy corn in the carrier, place a blanket over it, and call her to come and get him. The skunk really liked that candy. After a very short time he would eat right from my hand, though i did not try to pet him. He just gently licked it piece by piece from my palm. One day I took
the candy and when I had his attention, I placed it inside the carrier. He walked right in. I covered the cage with a blanket and called for his ride. She told me she had found a nice place for him in an abandoned field near the river. she would leave him some of the cat food to eat until he became acquainted with his new home. I missed him. However, I considered it very lucky that we had not had any spray while he was in residence.
Working in the veterinary hospital I washed many woebegone dogs who had made the error of barking at or chasing the black kitty. We tried the commercial skunk-off remedies, but found that vinegar and/or tomato juice worked best. You can not get it all off--just takes time and often numerous washings. Even then, if the dog is out in the rain, the odor will return as he dries. One Saturday when I was working alone, a woman came in carrying a white miniature poodle. She had him wrapped in a blue tarp. I did not have to ask her why she had brought the poor dog in. She left, after handing over the bundle to me.
I deposited the shivering male poodle in the tub. I drenched his body in tomato juice, rubbing it into his curly (luckily short as he had been clipped recently) coat. I spent a long time rubbing tomato into every part except his eyes, even his ears. Lastly I rinsed him----and rinsed him----and rinsed him. I was left with a very PINK poodle. And this was a male. No amount of shampoo, no amount of rinsing, removed the pink coloring from the hair. He did smell much better. After he was dry, I called his owner. I did not prepare her for the shock until she appeared at the clinic door. To my relief, she just laughed when she saw her dog. But I will warn you-if you are using tomato juice to freshen your skunked dog, it better be a Dachshund or a German Shepherd or anything that isn't white! Especially if the dog happens to be a boy.
figure that out. Alas- the next time I went to write, the little "new post" gadget had disappeared. I spent two days trying to get back to the blog page. Decided I had surely been skunked. I wrote to the ever-patient Patty, and once again, she rescued me. So here I am to write in about a different sort of skunks.
I like skunks--the black and white four-legged kind. Have you even seen a California spotted skunk? We had one brought to the vet clinic by a man who moved from California to Vermont. He wanted it de-scented. (We did not do it.) They are small- much smaller than the average house cat, and white with black polka dots. Adorable. And though I am very much against making pets of any wild animal, I have to admit, that would be very tempting.
I have had a few of the close encounter experiences that were not so pleasant. Both times they were due to my presence startling them. They were just protecting themselves with the weapon nature provided. Once when the cows got into the corn field at night, the whole family was out running through shoulder high corn trying to force the errant cows back to the pasture. I had Shep, Dad's cow dog with me. It was dark out there. Suddenly right before us in the row stood a most unfriendly skunk. A big chap, and he was stomping his feet and his tail was high.
I ducked down holding poor Shep in front of me. We both felt the brunt of Mr. Skunk's ire, but Shep got the worst of it. Mother was glad that Shep was not a house dog. She slept in the barn with the cows.
Mother experienced a much nicer encounter with a skunk. One morning as she was in the milk house washing up the milking machines and equipment, she heard a thumping at the door. When she opened the door, there stood a young skunk with his head stuck inside a glass bottle. He just stood there looking at her with plaintive eyes. Mother immediately gathered him up and, wetting his neck fur and the top of his head with the warm soapy water, she gently twisted the jar, easing one little ear out, then the other. The
bottle slipped over the top of his skull, then off down his little pointy nose. Mother set him on the ground outside. He waddled a few steps away, looked back at her, and continued back across the field to the woods. Was he saying thank you?
When I had my own farm, I had goats, horses and hens. I worked until after dark so it was with a lantern that I went to the barn to feed everybody and milk the goats. There were numerous barn cats. I fed them dry cat food in a large round plastic bowl. One evening when I went to the barn I noted a black "kitty"
with a white stripe down his back among the tiger-striped and orange kitties. The newcomer was enjoying the crunchies too. The cats seemed to be unperturbed by his presence. Everyone just ranged about the pan and continued their meal. I walked slowly past, talking softly. Don't recall exactly what words I was saying but probably something like "Oh boy--oh help--be nice little skunk". Little skunk was nice. He stayed with us for many months and never used his "option". Then I decided to take a couple of horses to board.
Fearing that the skunk would object to strangers in his territory in a way only a skunk can, I called a
wildlife rehabilitator. She suggested that I begin offering the skunk candy corn-the kind you have at Halloween! She drove to my farm and left a carrier. Once I had him semi-tamed, I was to place the skunk (with a large helping of the candy corn in the carrier, place a blanket over it, and call her to come and get him. The skunk really liked that candy. After a very short time he would eat right from my hand, though i did not try to pet him. He just gently licked it piece by piece from my palm. One day I took
the candy and when I had his attention, I placed it inside the carrier. He walked right in. I covered the cage with a blanket and called for his ride. She told me she had found a nice place for him in an abandoned field near the river. she would leave him some of the cat food to eat until he became acquainted with his new home. I missed him. However, I considered it very lucky that we had not had any spray while he was in residence.
Working in the veterinary hospital I washed many woebegone dogs who had made the error of barking at or chasing the black kitty. We tried the commercial skunk-off remedies, but found that vinegar and/or tomato juice worked best. You can not get it all off--just takes time and often numerous washings. Even then, if the dog is out in the rain, the odor will return as he dries. One Saturday when I was working alone, a woman came in carrying a white miniature poodle. She had him wrapped in a blue tarp. I did not have to ask her why she had brought the poor dog in. She left, after handing over the bundle to me.
I deposited the shivering male poodle in the tub. I drenched his body in tomato juice, rubbing it into his curly (luckily short as he had been clipped recently) coat. I spent a long time rubbing tomato into every part except his eyes, even his ears. Lastly I rinsed him----and rinsed him----and rinsed him. I was left with a very PINK poodle. And this was a male. No amount of shampoo, no amount of rinsing, removed the pink coloring from the hair. He did smell much better. After he was dry, I called his owner. I did not prepare her for the shock until she appeared at the clinic door. To my relief, she just laughed when she saw her dog. But I will warn you-if you are using tomato juice to freshen your skunked dog, it better be a Dachshund or a German Shepherd or anything that isn't white! Especially if the dog happens to be a boy.
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