Polo The Skunk

It was the wee hours in the morning on a Thursday, my favorite day of the week in the neighborhood where I am currently living in, because it’s trash day. I live in an upscale alotment where everything is fancy, even the garbage. These humans throw half pieces of steak and chicken away, I mean last week I even scored a lobster tail out of the old man’s can who’s always setting traps in his back yard. I always get a kick out of watching him struggle with the traps, I call him cardigan because he’s always wearing one, even in the blistering heat. I love my life though except for a few small details. For one I don’t have any friends, and two- I’m looking for a love. That is why I’m sharing my story with you, because today this skunk will prevail.

Like I said it was early and all the sounds of the night were still around. Being a skunk has it’s advantages of security, however I am afraid of my own shadow. Every hoot from an owl, or a rustle of a bush makes me freak out. They call me Polo, you know like the cologne, and it has to be one of the worst colognes on the market if it smells like me. I am black with two white stripes down my back, and a gross looking yellow tint as if I was a smoker on the white of my head. I have dark eyes and mean looking claws and teeth, but still I’m a baby when it comes to the dark. I was sneaking by Cardigan’s garage when I saw her. From where I was she looked like one of those skunks you see at the zoo, all showy and preppy, but man she was a looker. She must of smelled me coming though because just then she looked up as if to say, “this is my hood”. I made my way to Kennedy’s cans and had myself a real nice pizza dinner with banana peppers and pepperoni. As I was finishing up my meal I deceied to knock the can over as a nice tip to the family, when I heard her say, “have some respect”. That was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.

She was what I called an untouchable skunk, because there was no way I was ever going to be able to touch her. We met in the middle of Mr. Stokes’ driveway. This was so neat, normally everyone else won’t stand two yards from me and here we were nose to nose. She told me her name was Daisy and I laughed because I know she doesn’t smell like a flower. I told her my name and she laughed and I’m still not sure why.  We spent the whole night talking behind a Denny’s that was near the alotment. I told her how I had been on my own since my parents and brother were killed in the backyard massacre of 2007, yeah, I’m writing a book about it. She told me of her trivial woes and how she has been in and out of bad relationships. Every time she would speak I thought, “this has to be the one”. Then, an overweight woman that was leaving the restaurant put her left overs on the roof of her mini van and forgot about it. The container crashed to the ground so Daisy and I ran to get it, It was a cheesecake, which I now call our first meal.

We spent the whole night frolicking through garbage cans and even sprayed a dog that was a little passive aggressive if you ask me. Then we made our way back to my place where I was worried, not about the ordinary kiss goodnight, but I had to tell her about my battles with OCD. She had already noticed my neat pile of wrappers from all the local fast food joints and the way I have to touch and smell everything in my hole. She was a real forward skunk and she asked if I only had the one bed, and of course I did, after all I am a bachelor. I slept on the floor like a true gent would do, although it is late winter and I would love to be mating. But there was something different about Daisy. I tossed and turned all night, and my stomach was hurting. It felt as if my ribs were bruised. I must have eaten some bad food tonight, although I’ve always heard of this thing called love making your insides hurt. I mean she’s in the other room and I can’t stop thinking about her.

The next morning we slept in until about 9:30, when I decided to wake and go get us some breakfast from Cardigan’s can. He always eats wheat bagels and blueberry muffins. On my way Burt the cat stopped me and wanted all the juicy details. Burt was a black cat with a white spot under his chin and he was always looking for trouble. He must have seen me bring Daisy home. It was weird that he was talking to me, I would say hi to him everyday and normally he would just hiss at me. I always thought he was kind of a jerk, but I love killing him with kindness. I didn’t share anything except she needed a place to crash. As I grabbed some of the bagels and bottoms of the muffins, cause the old man only eats the tops, I mean who only eats the tops, anyways I was grabbing our breakfast when the thought of marriage and little skunks running a muck through the house popped in my mind. I’ve always dreamed of this day.

As I was walking back I remembered I didn’t tell Daisy where I was going, and I didn’t want her to worry. I rounded Ms. Maddy’s back porch when I heard what I know to be a trap slamming shut, and in it was Daisy. She let out a loud scream and I ran to her before the old man could get there. I did everything in my power to release her but couldn’t. I spent her last few minutes telling her how sorry I was, but thanked her for the chance to know what love was like.