We were bombed by one clever skunk this past Friday evening. He didn't spray one of the cars. Or the cat. Or the shed in the back yard. Nope.
He sprayed the heat pump, right there at the air intake. One strategically released scent bomb, and he fumigated the entire downstairs so badly that it made us cough and gag and burned our eyes. Three days later, you still get smacked with a wall of stink when you walk in the front door.
Minimum investment, maximum impact.
I'm thinking there is some important lesson I need to learn from this skunk, but my mind is so muddled by the fumes that I can't figure out what that lesson might be. Suggestions?
found an old poem from baby felix
4 weeks ago