What’s That?

And Why Are You Screaming?

This is a picture taken from my car, in my garage. The white fluffy thing to the left of the Kitchen-Aid is the tail of a baby spotted skunk. It poked it’s head out a few times and ran behind some other garage jumble.

The sudden movement elicited a scream from me that my neighbor heard over the sound of his power tools in his skunk-free garage.

There are so many stories in this one photograph. How you’d not likely notice the skunk tail if you weren’t looking for it. If you did, you might think it was one of those fluffy things you use to dust the ceiling fans.

Then there’s the story of my unstoppable, embarrassing primal screams that have become legendary throughout the neighborhood. This is Florida, after all. You never know what you’ll find in the garden, clinging to the screen, under the passenger seat of your car, or in your shoe that you forgot to shake before putting on.

And there’s the story about my husband, the Republican, and how he spoke quietly to the skunk, trying to coax it out, calling it Baby, and the story of how the hell could a man like that support a man like THAT?