A Pointy Little Head in a Hole

While walking along one of the roads near my house the other day, I had an interesting encounter.  As I sauntered along the edge of the road where it cuts through an embankment—THUMP—something hit on the embankment side of me.

I stopped and surveyed the immediate area, but didn’t see anything.  Just sagebrush and grass.

THUMP, again.  Like the sound of someone stamping their feet against the ground right alongside me.

What the…????

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.  Urgent now.

Looking closer to me, almost within hand’s reach, I saw a head in a hole under sagebrush along the embankment.

A pointy little skunk head with beady eyes.

The skunk thwacked the ground with his forepaw as I stared at him.

“I’m certainly glad that I’m seeing your face instead of your ass,” I said to him.

I basically trotted off.

I suppose the thumping was intended to warn me off.  And I bet the skunk would be a little disappointed to know that his skunkiness compelled me to immediately walk on.  That and purple and black stormclouds tussling with themselves just above my head.

—Mitchell Hegman