Pit of Dispair 1,000.000 : Rae Ann 0

Am. So. Traumatized.

I threw open my bedroom curtains this morning to behold a dark blob floating in the pool. At first thought, I thought it was one of the retired duck decoys my hubs thought was funny to float in the pool. Upon closer inspection, I could see both of the plastic mallards sitting on the pool deck. After a quick mental inventory of the other pool toys, I had to conclude that our floater was organic. And big.

Once the sleep fog had cleared from my eyes, I could just make out a white stripe. Great. A skunk met its great reward in my pool. And to add insult to the injury of my very soft heart, it was a baby skunk. Wah. I don't know why the demise of a small mammal is so much sadder than the millions of stiff frogs I have fished out, but it is. Again, I say wah.

I fished the little guy out with the skimmer net and was hit with the disposal dilemma. What to do with a small (smelly) dead thing? I feel bad, but not bad enough to actually dig a hole. (Am spaz with shovel.) Trash? The pick-up isn't until Friday. I imagine two pounds of baby stinker would be hellacious by Friday if left in a hot trash can. In Texas. In summer.

I was left with the undignified option of the over-the-fence-fling. After a word or two by way of eulogy (so. very. soft. hearted.), I played a not altogether successful round of fling the skunk. Instead of the graceful loft into the dense undergrowth, the poor little critter fell with a thunk onto the cleared area not ten feet from the back fence. In plain view. And in smelling range. (Sigh. Shoulders slump.)

I trudge all the way back up to the gate and plod around to my now dirt-covered dead guy. So not the send off I had hoped for. I gather him up in my net and lob him back into the woods, hopefully to take his place (quick and not-very-smelly) in the food chain.

Apparently, my house has a sense of humor. It got in one last dig before we left. Awesome.


  1. Oh -- that is so sad. I had a similar experience with a squirrel in a big water-filled trash can. Made me so sad. I called my bro-in-law to take care of the remains...

    Have a safe trip. Blessings to you!

  2. I'm sorry, Rae Ann, but this was both sad and funny. I had to chuckle when I pictured you flinging it into someone else's yard. We found a very alive snake in our pool. My first instinct was to kill it. I hate snakes. But my husband got it out and then let it loose on someone else's property. That just cracked me up.

  3. Yeah, that house really has a sense of humor. Sad about the baby skunk. I think the reason it's sadder is because deep down we know that the mammals just don't produce as many off-spring therefore making each death that much more important especially considering that skunks give birth to about 4-6 young and the frog has substantially more....

  4. Couldn't he have waited another day or two to land in your pool? What a stinky send off. I'm sorry for your skunk. :(

  5. Ewwww, this doesn't sound like the way to start the week.

  6. oh. this is so sad. I am so with you in being sad over a baby (yet smelly) skunk in the pool. :(

  7. How miserable! I'm sorry you had to deal with all that-I'd be sad too!

  8. Ugh! I had the same kind of thing, but with a less stinky crow. I somehow finagled it into an XXL ziplock bag and disposed of it in the garbage (if I flinged it over our fence my neighbor would have freaked). I was sad, but totally grossed out at the same time.

  9. What a way to wake up in the morning!


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