A Well-Armed Intruder
By Guy W. Meyer
The following true event took place last Thursday at dark four o'clock in the morning when I was answering a call of nature.
To make sense of the incident you must be able to picture the locations of three doorways. As I approach my destination, the bathroom, I am facing the entrance into the kitchen. At that point my destination, the bathroom, is on my right. This fact is only to explain why I am now facing the entrance to the kitchen and is otherwise irrelevant.
Slightly ahead and to my left in the kitchen is the door to outside, through which I feel the cool night air drifting. At the same moment I hear a rustling sound in the garbage basket at the far end of the kitchen and my eyes fall on a kitchen floor littered with food wrapping debris-discarded foil and food scraps.
An outside door open and some critter in the garbage basket? My mind immediately went to a raccoon, whose visit we had experienced before.
Then I saw a very bushy black and white object protrude from the center of activity. A tail?
Oh, please no! The firing of just one missile would result in our evacuation from our home and the end of any plans for "Christmas at Grandfather's House."
How to eliminate this threat without turning the threat into a disaster? I instantly began a slow retreat from the kitchen doorway. About five feet back I commanded in a low volume voice, "Out! Out!" and softly clapped my hands for emphasis.
Retreating still further, I upped the volume of voice and clapping.
Now a black and white head with two beady black eyes emerged from the garbage basket. Aha! He (she?) was heeding my authority. Then out climbed the skunk-the well-armed intruder.
Only when he had waddled outdoors and I had closed the door, did I breathe a sigh of relief.
At this moment my wife joined me. Awakened by my chanting of "Out! Out! Out!" and my hand-clapping, she came, expecting to find me lying disabled, maybe even dying, on the floor.
She was just in time to begin cleaning up the mess.