Anticlimax

First thing in the morning, I went down (without Bessie) to see if Pepe Le Peau was still under the deck.  He was not.  I looked in every corner and under everything Steve had stashed there.  I walked all the way around the house (which is built into a hill and not as easy as it sounds) and there was no sign of him.  I wouldn't have given that little sick skunk a snowball's chance in hell of surviving the night.  He'd been so weak the day before he could barely lift his head.  While I would like to know for sure, my assumption is that something came in the night and carried the body away.  I called off Animal Services.

When I let Bess out later in the morning, she gave no sign of smelling our intruder.  She may be half blind and stone deaf, but her nose still works!   Dave, my buddy at Animal Services, called to ask about the situation.  I described the skunk's behavior and he immediately said, "Distemper."  Oh, great.  I asked how distemper was transmitted, worried about Bess, but he said it was through saliva and I knew she hadn't been bitten; her attack had been from the other end of the skunk.  Also, Bess is up to date on her shots.  Dave also thought a wild thing had taken Pepe, as distemper is a mostly fatal disease.

The weather had warmed up and a strong north wind blew, which was a good thing for a change because I could open the doors to air out the house.  Once in awhile I still get a whiff, but that gawdawful smell is mostly gone now.  If you've never smelled skunk up close and personal, be glad.

After the drama of the day before and being on high alert in the morning, I didn't do much but nap off and on yesterday and didn't feel a bit guilty.  Wasn't a drum-roll ending, but I'm just glad it was over.