Snowflake

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Make no mistake, this is a genuine bit of writing. That said, my opening will read a little like an ad. That’s because I want to take an opportunity, just one, to tell the people who have been coming here to read my blog that I also have a website, ad and spam-free and loaded with my short stories, all downloadable, free reading.. BenTrayne.com is the url. I have a lot more effort in those writings than in this blog, and for some strange reason, the blog is getting more hits than my site. Bookmark it. Enjoy. Pass it on.

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Snowflake is a skunk. A real, wild creature who visits my back porch nightly to feast on the cat food my outdoor pets haven’t eaten. Snowflake is admittedly only half-white, but she’s plainly deserving of the name, because she’s a real sweetheart. Oh, she’s dangerous, like all healthy skunks. But she’s not aggressive like some are, luckily, and I can tell she likes me. I’m sure she believes I put that food out for her, and in a way, I do. I could easily bring it all inside before darkness falls, and I’m quite sure it would save me money, as well as the time I currently spend scrubbing the feed dishes each morning. But the fact that she is “loaded” at all times is the reason the photo I will post at the end, isn’t a better one. A man’s got to know his limitations.

That last line came from a Dirty Harry movie. I don’t remember which one.

I came to know that Snowflake was non-aggressive because of a cigarette. It was many months ago, she was much smaller, and I was still a smoker. I have never smoked indoors, in fair weather or foul, so I had donned a jacket and had parked myself in a comfortable chair on my back porch, just to have a cigarette.

Long-time smokers are experienced. We know how to light up on windy days by facing into the wind rather than turning our backs to it. It’s the only way cupped hands will shield a match. We know that even if you tear the tobacco from the filter when you’re finished, pocketing the filter is a no-no. It will stink as bad as the whole butt. We also know that lighting up while driving is roughly equivalent to texting and driving, and that opens up a myriad of other ways smoking can kill you.

But few of us have been cornered on their back porch by a skunk because of a cigarette. I think Snowflake’s appearance was the first thing that made me actually consider quitting. I thought she just hadn’t seen that I was sitting there, within six feet of her, as she appeared and clambered up onto the bench where the cat dishes were lined up. It was chilly out, and immediately the cold seemed to soak right into my bones. I felt about the same as if a big rattlesnake had just slithered up and coiled itself at my feet.

“Way to go, slick,” I thought. “How the hell are you gonna get out of this one?”

After all, six feet is still, six feet. To get to the door I would have been within two or three feet. I would have had to get closer just to escape to the great outdoors beyond the porch. I figured that as soon as she realized I was there, it would be all over. I froze.

But lo and behold, she'd known I was sitting there all along. As she finished scarfing up all of the dry food nuggets, she raised her nose in the air while looking right at me, and she appeared to be sniffing. A new chill passed through me as she turned her back, and I prepared to make a leap and a run for it. But it would have been for naught, because she had only turned to leave. She climbed back down from the bench and made her way off toward the woods.

Since that night, I’ve been on the back porch while Snowflake was there, many times. I talk to her, and she looks up at me while she’s eating. It’s a win-win situation, because she will, in fact, drive away competing possums with her only weapon. The possums are afraid of me, and they’ll leave if I step outside, thus, she doesn’t stink up the area to secure her food supply.

I’m probably a distant relative of the first human to ever befriend a wolf, leading to the current variety of canine breeds. I’ve always taken chances this way, never mind the cigarette. Years ago I remember being the last guy outside at a wilderness camp, feeding marshmallows to black bears. Everyone else had gone inside and most were watching from a window. Tip your beer, toss a marshmallow. Marshmallow, beer. See how close they’ll come.

Okay, maybe it was the beer.

My whole point was, Snowflake gave me a chance. Perhaps she’d seen me putting the food out, and knew I was the source. Or maybe she was just young and inexperienced. Whatever the reason, she’s welcome here. I would never harm her, or try to trap her out. She and I have a fine friendship that will probably last, because we both know we aren’t dangerous to one another.

I think everyone should try that. Oh definitely, keep an eye out for yourself; but try exercising just a little bit of trust. Especially if you ever meet me.

It seems to work out fairly often.

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