by Ranger Daniel F. Murley

Mephitis mephitis  -  Striped Skunk Squad
by Daniel F. Murley

Jesting and playful pleading came from the girls as I hurriedly pulled on my boots and headed frantically for the door.  I had been alerted by Oona that one of the members of the local neighborhood Mephitis family was ambling into the side yard.  Though I was dutifully advised of its presence, I was also relentlessly teased about my reasons for wanting to be notified.

Ever since the birth of a bunch of fuzzy white-striped little stinkers and their daily comical clown-like promenades last summer, we have been curious to see if any of the family would return to their home in the hollowed out Redwood tree near the house.

My interest exceeded that of the rest of the family and when we started seeing two distinct individuals this year I wanted to see if I could actually make friends and maybe even get close to one of the maligned odiferous members of the weasel family.  I knew that in some Native cultures skunks were kept as pets.  However, it was not my goal to have a "Fluffy" or "Duke" as a part of our household.  I just wanted to become a bit more familiar with our notorious neighbors.  Even the name of the Striped Skunk, Mephitis mephitis means noxious noxious and their Eastern cousins' name Spilogale putorius means smelly spotted weasel.

My family knows my fascination with these critters and even puts up with my appreciation for the stench which the black and white creature's glands produce but none of my faithful family dare accompany me on my forays.  In most encounters with these year-old kits they will allow me to get within about thirty feet before they detect my presence and then they literally "high-tail" it for cover and concealment. I have never been sprayed but on this day all of my fans watched with fear as they saw from their safe window perches that this little tête-à-tête might be problematic.  The young skunk looked at me with his shiny black eyes bounced up and down on his hind legs as if on low-rider air shocks and raised his bushy tail in a warning gesture before I became the "chicken" in this game of confrontational curiosity.  He didn't spray and as I tipped my ball cap in gratitude while slowly stepping backward through the low bushes.  In doing so however, I inadvertently frightened the other oblivious fragrant fur ball and unknown to me that other skunk was now foraging in the dirt right behind me.

It then dawned on me why my concerned peanut gallery family were banging on the window glass and going through such elaborate histrionics.  They saw what I didn't.  I was enjoying showing them just how close I could get to danger so the more waving and tapping on the window they did, the more accomplished I assumed I was at my dubious daredevil demonstration.  When finally I turned to see the other skunk, it saw me and we both jumped in panicked acknowledgment.  As quick as an eye blink and a muscle twitch, I found myself relocated to safety many yards away from the two near-sighted weasels who were now gregariously exchanging greetings.

I waved my cap to my relieved fans acknowledging I had dodged an embarrassing scene and retreated to the clubhouse with a new resolve to leave our neighbors to their own devices and become more a respectful spectator than a crazy contestant.