Skunk Medicine

EXCERPTS FROM THESE TALES---

‘Watch What You Ask Creator for...Really’

I pray and what do I end up with but skunk medicine.

The first universal principle: Great Spirit and the Beautiful Mystery beyond, our Universe Infinite, provides all abundance and cherished gifts. One of my favorite prayers is ‘Creator, I come to you asking nothing yet with my arms open wide for all the gifts you are giving.’ This is an unlimited prayer of humble appreciation, yet a prayer like this can backfire in a good way.

Second universal principle: Creator has a fascinating ability to entertain The Self and us.

Third principle: Watch what you ask for....really.

I often wasn’t specific enough....... I spontaneously wished for a pet raccoon. The key word here is pet. I remember my moving boxes were still not unpacked and thinking what a mess a raccoon could make..............So I thought, ‘I really don’t want a raccoon. I would like to have a skunk.’ Notice the descriptive word pet doesn’t enter this picture?

The first week Sequoia lived in our home he measured two inches high, three inches long, excluding tail, which was the same size and stuck up at a permanent ninety-degrees.

There was something about that scrappy little skunk that made him chief of the house. Maybe the obviously clingy cologne. The odor, though not strong like an adult skunk, was bothersome even when he could curl up on the palm of my hand.

Everyone could smell what happened to me. The cat no doubt told them about the night before when the skunk sprayed just because he wanted the entire bed to himself. Sequoia had his edge from then on.

The bowl of animal food waited on the floor.....nothing a baby skunk could eat. All the animals gathered around the bowl. Any other day they growled, grabbed their share and were done with it. No hard feelings. But they had a new brother. Things had changed.

The new brother was all the way across the kitchen but his message blew on the wind. ‘Do not touch the food.’

Any of them could squash him under one paw, especially the 185-pound Newfoundland. They waited politely. They didn’t want changes in the house to be a bad thing.

The cats, the Sheltie, the Newfoundland stared at the food bowl as the hellion toddled over.

Sequoia stood rigidly by the huge bowl. He would have to crawl up the side to eat anything. He stomped his tiny front feet.

"This is my house now and that’s my food now, too."

They all smiled and agreed.

"No problem, little brother. Whatever you decide."

The insurance guy took his heavy insurance binder off the pillows next to him.

The pillows started poking up and down like a wave after the boat has gone by.  Sequoia definitely had not appreciated being smashed under the binder and pillows.  But he was free now.

The fuzzy little guy tossed the pillow over his tail and stomped at the insurance salesman.

"Don’t move.   And close your eyes," I told the guy.

He wasn’t moving but he couldn’t close his eyes. He was in shock.

What did not help the situation were my daughters hanging over the edge of the loft convincingly screaming, "Oh Mama...Mama, stop him! He’s going to spray again!"

I didn’t know what a hissy fit was until I brought home a baby skunk brother for Sequoia. We could say that Jeronimo grew on him but this is not the way it was. Actually, he sat on Sequoia.

Once upon a time there were three people to one bathroom in our house. The skunks moved in and now there are five.

One fine morning I was standing in the bathroom brushing my teeth. I had gained possession of the bathroom honorably for once and it would be nice to keep possession for five minutes so I locked the door, smart mother that I am.  Someone pounded on the door so frantically it shook.

Bam bam bam bam!

"What ?" I said.

No one answered.

I opened the door and the youngest skunk scurried in, hurried into his pooey box by the commode, and backed into the corner.