BeBe came face-to-face with an intruder in our garden at 11:30 last night. I don’t think she’d ever seen a skunk before in her twelve years of urban life.
She barked at the little guy, and fortunately when she lunged at him, he was facing in her direction. I spoke (no, I yelled) firmly for her to get away from him, and she must have sensed some danger by the tone of my voice: she came away immediately.
When I was 8 years old, I had my first and only encounter with a baby skunk. Being born and raised in the city, I thought it was a kitten. Until it sprayed me…
