The neighbors

This is our local skunk Claymore. We think he lives under the deck of the pottery studio next door, and he is an remarkably well behaved guy.* We are usually alerted to his presence by rustling in the leaves by the side of the house (where he comes out from under the building) or because Mirabelle is extremely intent on something going on outside. "Intent Mirabelle" + "fuzzed tail" = Sheba, the little feral cat the pottery people take care of, has had the nerve to walk somethwere that Mirabelle can see. (It also equals "Sylvie is going to be whomped in a minute because Mirabelle can't get to Sheba and man, is she in a whomping mood.)

"Intent Mirabelle" + "No fuzz" = Claymore is making his rounds. (And Sylvie can continue to nap peacefully.)




I put some catfood on the lawn the other day and apparently that was enough to get Claymore out before dark to snuffle it out of the grass. He was very intent.



He is also a she. A while later, I heard more rustling and looked outside to see two new baby skunks looking for any treats their mother might have missed. I didn't get good photos of them, but you will have to take my word for it when I tell you a baby skunk (kitten size but much waddlier and with an enormous bushy tail) is a seriously adorable creature. Especially when it is wrassling with its sibling and climbing up on things and then jumping off of them.

We don't get a ton of wildlife in this very urban part of the city, so I am pleased when I see a native species making good. Go skunk power!

* I classify "good skunk behavior" as "not making oneself known through ones scent" and this is almost always the case.