Attack of the Rabid Skunk

Imagine you live in New York City. In Manhattan. You work for a major financial corporation. You epitomize urban, corporate America. At some point you decide to make a change. A change of pace, of scenery. You relocate to New England. New Hampshire. You accept a position as the associate director of Career Development for a small but renowned business school. You are successful.

And then one you take your dogs out for a morning jaunt and the four of you (3 dogs, one person) are attacked by… a rapid skunk.

Imagine the scene: you, running. Your dogs, barking, running. The skunk, charging. The house, in the distance. You, the dogs, and the rabid skunk reach the house at approximately the same moment. You’re there, in the vestibule and now the question is, how does one get a rabid skunk out of one’s house?

And this is when your friendly neighbor shows up and shoots the skunk with a 22.

So the rabid skunk is dead. Literally on the vestibule of your house. But this skunk did not go quietly into that good night. True the skunk was rapid, crazy, but not stupid. And so before he went he sprayed… over you, your dogs, and absolutely everything in your house.

Four gallons of bleach, three dogs baths, and two showers (not to mention the several hours of scrubbing, the vet appointments for your three dogs who now need rabies shots, and the killer skunk-smell-induced headache) later you cautiously venture into the office. You are wearing fresh clothes, ones sealed in plastic and hanging in your closet at the time of the attack. You think you’ve made it through the worst. You walk into your office to recount to your friends and coworkers your harrowing tale.

And one by one they wrinkle their noses because… you still stink.

This is a true story that happened to a woman I work with… this morning.

And that is life in New Hampshire. (Since this morning several of my coworkers have shared skunk-related tales.)

Funnily enough, moving here I was so concerned about the cold (and my inability to handle it,) I never thought of the wildlife. I never thought of the friendly neighbor with his gun collection (although seriously, he is the hero here, kind of.) The lesson here? Beware of rabid skunks, obviously. BUT, if you should happen to be sprayed… use tomato juice and vinegar and do not come into the office because the smell takes a week to really go all the way away.

BUT if you do come into the office it is likely that everyone will feel so sorry for you they will spontaneously decide to buy you a spa gift certificate. Because that is exactly what happened. If you had seen/smelled this woman you would agree: never has someone deserved it more.

(PS: I'm touched that the only comments I've received on this post, to date, are a commentary on typographical errors. Although, rereading the story... the skunk was pretty "rapid" in his movements. And rabid. Both.)