Tis the season

While its not spring, at times it almost feels like spring. Animals are going in to heat, and everything with a dick is on the prowl. One of my room mates has a female dog. It is in heat, and has attracted several males from the region offering their services. The nearest one is a rather large Rottweiler. While friendly most of the time, he is not something I would want to mess with, and would likely consume my wife's male ankle biter in one gulp. Last night when we got home, our dog was at the door begging to go out.
Once in the yard, he made straight for Bella who was on a lead out back. After a few minutes, he began to go crazy, baking up a storm. I looked out expecting to see the neighbors rotty come around the corner. Instead, it was a skunk! It was about six feet from Ci Ci, and time had run out. One second he was barking up a storm, the next attempting to rub his face off on the back walkway.
Fe Fe la Peew wasn't the brightest either though. He decided to hunker down right at the edge of the deck. I grabbed a rifle, circled the house, and dispatched him with a head shot from a safe distance of fifty yards.
I don't have a sense of smell most of the time. I got one slight whiff of the skunk when he opened fire and that was it. It does not prevent my eyes from burning though. They still burn tonight, and its been 23 hours.
Hello spring! the wild animals are coming out in force. Its been a while since I had to shoot anything up by the house. When I first moved out here I was dropping four or five possum, coon or skunk a week. Thankfully only a couple of skunk, this was the fourth.
Right in the middle of the show, my room mate returned from town as well. This was her first time at my redneck wild west show. My wife has seen me dispatch a couple since we've been together. She was talking on the phone and didn't even look out when I shot the poor thing. Didn't ask what was going on until she finished talking with her sister, and only then asked if Ci Ci was fit to let in for the night.
Several western writers tell stories of indians eating skunk believing it had mystical powers. We rednecks aren't that into mysticism thank you. Heck, I don't know if the Beverly Hillbillies ever credited granny with cooking one either. Redneck will eat just about anything. For this redneck, skunk is past the line.