Wiley Coyote & the Acme Kit Company Part 1-B

Wiley Coyote & The Acme Kit Company: Part 1-B
August 16, 2009

Before I continue with part 2 of this story I feel the need to remind you that I love animals. I even find skunks endearing in their own way. In fact, let's face it; they are down-right cute with their beady little near-sighted eyes, pointy face, distinct color pattern and busy tail.

I also think it is very kind-hearted of them to warn everyone to stay away by stomping their feet and ruffling their hair before spraying. In other words, I would leave them alone if they left my poultry alone and didn't so freely share their cologne with me.

Let me back up a minute to a word I used in the first paragraph above: Love. I said I love animals. But, here's the deal. In our American/English language we have only one word that describes our varying degrees of love. I admire the Greek language because it has five different words that describe love. I think our lives would be less confusing if we borrowed some of the Greek definitions of love and applied them to our daily lives.

For example, the Greek use Agape to describe pure, ideal, spiritual love. Well, I can tell you right off the bat that I don't have an agape love for skunks.

Then there is the Greek word Eros, which describes a passionate love. Here again, that seriously is not what I would use to describe my feelings for skunks.

Next we have Storge, which in Greek indicates a strong bond such as that between parents and children. I've got to pass on that one too. It is not at all descriptive of my feelings for skunks.

Now we come to Xenia, which is used to describe a feeling of friendship and hospitality. The Greek are very gregarious and treat their guests like royalty. I can assure you that is not the word I would use to describe my relationship with skunks. I don't want to extend my hospitality to them. I want them gone!

Lastly we come to Phila, which is a dispassionate love, really more of an appreciation and acute interest. Now that would be the word I would use to describe my relationship with skunks and most other animals as well. I phila them.

Now that we have that straight, I would also like to add that while my relationship with most animals is phila, they also bring out my compassionate and nurturing side as well. I would rather do anything than physically harm or bring discomfort to any animal ..even skunks.

Having said that, I now need to warn you that I can only be pushed to a certain point before I go a bit off the deep end and go ballistic. The skunk in the feed room had me to that point. So, the next morning after my Acme Beginner Trapping Kit arrived, I decided to set the snare and "dispatch" the little stinker that was taking advantage of my Xenia.

The snare still reeked from the dousing it received from the broken bottle of skunk lure. This was not a problem in my mind. The stronger it smelled the quicker it should attract the unwelcome feed room resident, and the quicker he would be "dispatched" to another life.

However, marching out to the feed room with the snare held out in font of me at arms length, I began to think about the cute little guy. With each step I felt my warrior-like constitution going soft and my mind wandered to Pepe le Pew and Flower of Walt Disney fame.

My aggression further began to deteriorate as I wondered how that skunk came to be trapped in my feed room to begin with. I reasoned that he had plenty of food, but I wondered what he had been doing for water. I decided the poor little prisoner must be close to dehydration, and with that I began to feel sorry for him.

My compassionate side overpowered my warrior side and I set the snare down and filled a bowl with water. Next I quietly and slowly opened the feed room door and slid the bowl of water as far back into the room as I could by using one extended leg and foot.

Stomp-Stomp-Zing-Pow! The next thing I knew I was covered with skunk oil from head to toe. Compassion left my soul faster than a brick dropping to the floor. I would have "dispatched" the blasted little sniper with my bare hands if I could have seen him, but my eyes watered up so badly I could barely see light filtering in from the door behind me. Suddenly my nose was running wildly out of control and so was I.

I blindly ran to the nearest hose and drenched myself with cold water. Unfortunately, I remembered a bit too lat that oil and water don't mix...it beaded up and spread.

Thank goodness Lucy, the manufacturers of Anti-Icky-Poo sell it in gallon size.