A new guest arrived at Chez Carrabis a while back, an at-the-time unnamed skunk.
We’ve had skunk before.
And truth be told, they are a fun lot.
Some say skunk are quick-tempered.
Not so those who dine with us.
Although we, like Raccoon, start cautiously.
No need to be foolhardy.
Mostly our visiting skunk stay to themselves. The juveniles – one being the Larry mentioned in the video – are more willing to hobnob. The elders – Ferdinand, as also mentioned in the video, being one – are quite pleasant once they get to know you.
If nothing else, they’d rather trundle off than give offense.
Oh, how I wish Two-Legs were the same.
I mentioned last week the joy of dining with friends.
This week we continue that theme with a note of caution.
Behold some reasonably cautious raccoons.
Reasonably cautious because in addition to Opossum, Skunk, Owls, and assorted other fine citizens, we have a family of Coyote who visit.
We don’t mind them. They’re quite beautiful and gracious creatures.
Chatty, in fact.
And they love a good gnosh.
We simply endeavor to ensure their gnosh, while they share our space, isn’t someone else coming by for a little gnosh.
(no one likes it when the kids fight at the table…)
We are often intrigued by The Wild‘s musical tastes.
It is eclectic to say the least.
And it would be one thing if musical preferences followed some kind of Old One differentiation, you know?
Something like “All raccoons prefer Bach, all Opossum prefer modern jazz, skunk are heavily into acid rock (thank goodness they’re not!), …”
You know, some kind of differentiator so we could see who’s come to visit and put on something to suit their musical tastes.
No such luck.
Each’s musical leanings are as individuated as, well, as they are.
That seems to be the commonality.
Not only across species, but individuals, as well.
Set out a good table and they’ll gather.
It’s a good thing.
Welcome to Chez Carrabis, the only wildlife 24×7 in our neighborhood.
This night, this scene, reminds me of my days long-haul trucking. No matter the weather or time of day, rack up the miles, deliver the goods, pickup the next load for backhauling.
I (and most others I knew back in the day) preferred traveling at night. Less traffic. Staties pretty much knew who we were (we had regular routes) and would let us pass by way over the posted limit.
I remember meeting one fellow who told me he clocked 120mph+ on the Queen Victoria from Montreal to Toronto and down onto Detroit.
Wow (on so many levels).
My personal best was Sydney, Nova Scotia, to Washington, DC in 17 hours. This was before the Trans-Canada went to Sydney and, if you remember the roads back then, you’ll appreciate I was low altitude flying.
When we did stop (rarely), it was in midnight diners that catered to long-haulers.
Made some good friends. Excellent teachers, they. A few years later the CB craze started and the air got polluted so we found other ways to talk to each other.
And a bit after that, I was completely out of the game.
Sad, but I still remember those good times, good friends, and good diners.
Eat hearty, all.
It’s been a while since Skunk visited us. The last confirmed visit was Clarence of Be Cool, Clarence fame.
Prior to Clarence’s nocturnal joy-bringing…or wafting…depends on direction, I suppose…our last visits were from Larry (seen dining with Boris below)
and prior to that, Ferdinand (seen dining with Gracie below)
The images above are from 3 Oct 2011 and 3 Oct 2012 respectively.
It doesn’t seem that long ago.
They are, I know, long past into history, kept alive in memory, and shared with you here that you may keep them alive after I’m gone.
And some day, soon I know, we’ll learn this young lad’s name and keep him alive in memory as well.
I wonder…will you remember me? And what will those memories say of me?
It’s not a vain question, not driven by ego. I often explore my and others’ memories. Take a snapshot of what people collected at any moment in time, what they chose to remember via physical artifact, and you know who they were at that moment in time.
Fascinating, don’t you think?
Meanwhile, an anonymous young lad.