Silent Putridity

Along with deer and wild turkeys, skunks make up a significant portion of the wild animals that roam through the neighborhoods in our semi-rural neck of the woods. A few times a month, it seems, a skunk will make its way into our backyard, probably seeking refuge for the night under our backyard deck. We know this, of course, because we wake up with our eyes watering from the acrid smell that follows skunks around like Pigpen's cloud of dust.

Last night we experienced a new chapter in human-skunk relations. Around 3:30 a.m., we heard a scuffle between small animals on the deck just outside our room. We don't know exactly what happened, but we know with absolute certainty that one of the animals involved was a skunk, and that it was not a friendly encounter. Whoever was involved in the altercation was on the receiving end of a heavy dose of a skunk's essential oils.

I got up to investigate the fight just as the initial cloud began to silently infiltrate the house. Closed windows and doors are no match for the skunk smell under ordinary circumstances. With our bathroom window slightly ajar, we never stood a chance.

I have frequently smelled the aftereffects of a skunk in the area, but I do not think I have ever been in close proximity to the immediate aftermath of an actual spraying. There's something quantitatively different about a skunk's spray deployed in anger compared to the skunk smell we all know and love. The noxious stench smells like burning plastic, and spreads quickly and thoroughly into every corner and crevice of your house, clothing, and nasal passages. It is astonishingly strong, an assault on the senses. Our candles usually employed to neutralize doggie indigestion were powerless against the skunky onslaught. The plug-in scent dispensers that we previously banished to a storage closet after less than a day because they made our eyes water and skin itch were welcomed back with heartfelt apologies. Their chemical approximation of smells were are supposed to find inviting, ordinarily obnoxious and fake, was now like rosepetals and jasmine compared to the forces of evil we were battling, but gained territory against the skunk offensive only within a pitifully small radius. We could hardly get back to sleep, and both kids woke up recounting dreams revolving around horrible smells.

Today was our normal morning to run. We were more eager than usual to get out, if only to gulp in as much fresh air as we could. After clearing our senses for half an hour, opening the front door and entering the foyer was like getting smacked across the face with a 2 x 4. We can almost accept and deal with the normal skunk smell, but the ultra-repellent burning plastic smell was simply intolerable. We sprayed Lysol everywhere, opened windows, and bundled up against the pre-dawn chill. Unfortunately, we discovered that stench had made its way into every corner of the house, including closed closets. Our clothing and towels bore the unmistakable aroma of eau de skunk.

Our weekend will involve washing clothes nonstop, cleaning the carpets and spraying the drapes with Fabreeze.

And cooking with lots of garlic and basil.