This is Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle. Have you ever had one of those days when you felt like a skunk in a rose garden? Yeah. It’s true. Sometimes I even feel like I don’t belong. We all feel out of place sometimes.
But sometimes, you find someone else who feels out of place. There we were. Girl Person was finishing up making dinner and she said we needed to go outside before our bedtime snack. We went outside. Just like any other night.And then I saw it. A cat. A big cat with white stripes. But. It wasn’t a cat.
As I was looking at this non-cat, my Sheriff instincts took over. I had to arrest him. After all, he had stripes! He must have been an escaped prisoner. And here he was! In my campground jurisdiction! I am the law around these parts and all parts.
I ran at him full speed, dragging Deputy Digby and Girl Person along for the chase! The camper who had given us dirty looks earlier for barking at dinner was in my path. And as I tore thru their campsite, their tree got in Girl Person’s way, who was still holding on for the ride. Roadblock it was. A really big roadblock.
Girl Person screamed for me to stop, and I did. Right at the fence with the antelopes all gawking at the show. This giant cat with white stripes decided to turn on me. Literally. As he turned around with one swift motion, resisting arrest, a spray of which I had never smelled so swiftly enveloped the air. Our fur. Our noses. Our planet.
Girl Person at this point was stuck on a tree with each arm on either side, being spread apart limb from limb. As the skunk ran under the fence and we released our grip, Girl Person became dislodged and sunk down to the bottom of the tree trunk in one motion.
It seemed as if the prisoner had escaped me. But Girl Person had not escaped from scratches. Bumps. Bruises. And yes. The agony of skunk spray. That was a low blow, skunk.
Now, you might think Girl Person would have been upset and yes, she was. But as we tried to tip toe thru the angry camper’s campsite, we could only imagine that they were not so happy with us again on a night when everyone had their windows open.
As Girl Person whispered to me that I was in trouble, Deputy Digby remarked that yes. The age old question of if he could possibly smell any worse had been answered. Yes. We all smelled worse.
It was at that moment that Girl Person realized the extent of the smell. And let me just say. It was a long night.
Mistaken identity got me again. It will be a long time before I chase a cat.
It will be a longer time before Girl Person heals from her wounds.
She said that the skunk was only trying to protect itself. And that I had plenty of warning when it growled and shook its tail.
Well, warnings are for law enforcement, I say. Not for the ones who do the crime.
I fought the skunk and the skunk got away, but the tree won the battle. It had slowed me down. It definitely slowed Girl Person’s face down. And it allowed the skunk to go party with the antelopes and spray more into the irritable campers site. Not all battles were won that day. But it taught me a lesson.
Ask questions first instead of later. Jumping to conclusions may get you quicker results. But it may not be the results you want. When you get in a fight with a skunk, well, you’re not going to even know who started it. Arguments make everyone smell bad. Even the one who is right. (That would be me).
–Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle