When I first moved to Sedona I was a bit unnerved that most homes did not have private fenced yards. Solid fences could be only a maximum of three feet high, according to most HOA guidelines, while open fencing (like chain-link versions) could be any height. Still, after having lived many years in the Phoenix area where 9-feet block walls are the norm, I felt uncomfortably exposed in my outside spaces without them. And maybe I still do — a little.
javelina
One of my clients recently asked me how do you know, when you see so many animals on a regular basis, whether their appearance is intended to convey a message? Well, as with all animal communication, there isn’t just ONE way to ascertain that. Sometimes you just know (like with the Nubian goat from my last blog post). Sometimes it’s the unexpected and/or obvious intervention of an animal that gives you the clue (as with the dove that diverted an unpleasant situation, also cited in an earlier post). And sometimes the encounter is just so unusual you can’t ignore it. An example of the latter situation happened to me recently — in conjunction with an overly adventurous skunk.
I was used to skunk odor wafting through the neighborhood and several times had glimpsed a skunk in nearby bushes, sometimes mistaking it for a cat. On this particular evening I had let the dogs out on the back deck to play. After a good half-hour, Dundee (my Chow/Shepherd mix) started barking and Nikko began to vocalize in his deep, excited Husky whine.
When I went out to investigate and shush the dogs, I was over-powered by a noxious odor — a skunk was nearby. Very nearby. In fact, s(he) was trapped in the cat carrier I had placed right outside the sliding back door. The dogs’ barking had triggered the skunk’s protective instincts — but we were fortunate she chose to spray the deck rather than the dogs or me.
Grabbing the carrier, and holding it as far distant from me as possible (!), I took the skunk out to the open field in front of my house where I tipped it out onto the ground. Her behavior upon her release took me by surprise — she stood still for about 15 seconds, tail held high, making huffing noises — and then she charged straight at me. I backed away quickly to the other side of the street, reassuring her I meant no harm. She held her ground a while longer in the middle of the road, then turned casually, waddled into the field, and disappeared.
Well, I had to wonder — why would this skunk climb the stairs onto my deck and trap herself in a cat carrier? She did not exhibit any signs of illness (as in rabies). There was no food or water on the deck and the dogs, obviously territorial, were outside a lot that day. But, for whatever reason — she put herself out there and it was up to me to figure out why she took such drastic steps for me to notice her!
When you think about it, skunks pretty much walk through the world with self-assurance and assertiveness because, with the exception of their one predator (the owl), other animals tend to treat them with respect — they demand it! Their nature teaches us about the value of having confidence and a strong self image, and also about how and when it is and isn’t best to be noticed. These lessons are valuable ones for us all. And especially for me, as I reluctantly develop specific strategies to market my business and myself more aggressively. Skunk reminds me that my natural tendency to hang back rather than put myself forward is not serving me. While it is not a message I am particularly comfortable hearing, I’m grateful for the reminder.
Seen a skunk lately?
Yep, animals know…
