A few weeks back I was out walking the dogs with my neighbor and mentioned to her how wild it is that I keep seeing bunny rabbits. Everywhere.
Asya said, "oh yeah, lots of bunnies and skunks."
And I was all-- um, what? Skunks? Seriously?
But I really didn't believe her. That's just my way-- you can tell me your truths but if I don't want those things to be true, I simply decide to ignore the facts and string up another row of twinkle lights.
So you know where this is going.
Our habit (because I totally over indulge my dogs and set no boundaries) is to go to bed and then sometime in the middle of the night, generally once I am deeply ensconced in the world of REM, Henry will decide it is the perfect time for him to relieve his bladder. No matter that I gave him sixteen different opportunities to water the ground before we went to bed-- 2am, 2:32am, 3:10am-- somehow so much more appealing to Mr. ScoobyDoo.
And so, last Monday night at about 2am ish--- I stagger out with the dogs, down the porch steps-- in my summer pajamas which is a skimpy tank top and boy short undies-- because really, why would I bother to put a robe on when I go out in the middle of the night since the whole world will be asleep, right? Bare foot (because obviously I don't fear broken glass or city diseases) I follow the dogs across the street-- who, by the way, much as I am without a robe are without leads due to the same logic of, no need, right?-- they find a suitable spot in the grass to get intimate with and I yawn as we head back to the porch steps when-- bam-- Daisy is around the side of the house where the garbage cans are.
Psst, I whisper-- it's a hot summer night, after all and I have like 40 neighbors in every direction whose windows are wide open. Psst-- Daisy, come.
And that's when I see it-- rising up above the porch rail is a white tail tipped in black. Daisy is nose to nose with a skunk.
In a flash-- all I can think of is if she gets skunked-- oh my god-- I have no tomato juice, it's the middle of the night, I won't be able to put her in the house, in the car while I go in search of cleaners-- the house and bushes will be skunked and oh my god.
Daisy, I whisper as firmly and harshly as I can. Come. Now. Daisy. Come.
But she's gone. Down the side of the house into the bushes at the back of the house-- she is gone-- CHASING. A. SKUNK. through the streets and back yards of Providence.
I run after into dark yards which with my bare feet cause me to hold back and also because they are gone and I have absolutely no idea what direction. And oh my god-- there are ROADS with cars and I am flipping out.
I hold my head in my hands and walk back around to the front porch with every step going over what just happened in my head-- like HOW. CAN. THIS. HAVE. HAPPENED? How on earth could I have let my dog off lead in the city and think it is okay? And what is going to happen?
And there, just as I turn the corner to release Henry from where I had tied him up to chase Daisy-- appears Daisy-- running at full tilt right back to me.
Unharmed. Un-skunked. A bit breathless from all the excitement.
Never has a dog been hugged so tightly or for so long as that girl was last Monday night.
So yeah-- we got no bugs, no bears, no fisher cats or moose. But damn if there aren't bunnies* and skunks.
*not that I don't dote on the bunnies-- it's just another bit of dangerous distraction for Miss Daisy.
P.S. Sigh, on another note-- my darling Michelle is felled with a terrible case of bronchitis and won't be making the trip here. Sob sob. Gotta flow with life, alas-- but I am bummed for sure.