Windmill Ranch Preserve

Monday, July 17, 2006

The Skunk & the Roadrunner

This blog is a two parter. One part good.. one part bad or at least smelly.. very smelly. We'll start with the good.
My oldest son Jeff and I just saved a Roadrunner. I dunno if you're supposed to capitalize Roadrunner, but I'm gonna because... WOW! What a bird!
Here's the story. Jeff & I headed west this afternoon to clean out a livestock tank in our 'corrals' area. When we got there, we found too much water to effectively un-fungi the big concrete tank. So, we kinda meandered around until Jeff said: "what a second! That dead bird just blinked." I said, "huh?" He said, "seriously, it just blinked." Turns out, a Roadrunner was wading (and stuck) in about four inches of water.
Let the rescue begin. Jeff held Lola (the yellow lab) while I used a big shovel to scoop the raucous bird from it's eventually watery grave. I'd like to thank the bird with the vibrant red, white and blue striping near its eyes was thankful. But I think it was genuinely angry I was scooping it with a big shovel. Long story short: the Roadrunner ran off.
Now to the skunk (that doesn't get capitalized). This story starts the other morning. I'm sitting on the pavilion's big front porch. Suddenly, "Curly" (the crazy cocker spaniel) starts going nuts. Then, a BIG, skunk waddles out of the front flower bed. "Curley" gets smothered in stink. I'm yellin'. My daugher's yellin'. My wife's yellin': "why are ya'll yellin'?"
So, I gotta admit I ran for my gun. I felt like Travis in "Ole' Yeller." You know the line.. "Travis, get your gun!!!"
Keep in mind that I'm not a good shot. It took me three pulls of the trigger to down this big stinker. Unfortunately, he dropped just outside the front door--right on top of my slippers.
We buried him, said grace and moved on to the next event. I sure hope he wasn't a she w/ babies nearby.
Bill Robertson

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