This photo came from reader Diana MacPherson with the caption:
I got this picture indirectly – my dad sent it to me and he received it from a family friend who received it from his friend (who took the picture). The mom skunk kept going to the end of the line & goosing the stragglers to get them across the road. This is on a pretty busy highway but they all got across safely.
I especially like this one because I had a pet skunk (named Pinkus, after my dad’s fraternity roommate Irving Pinkus*) for seven years. Pinkus was a wonderful pet, and a true omnivore.
*Back in the ’30s, when my dad went to Penn State, no Jewish boys could join a “regular” fraternity, and had to join one of the two or three all-Jewish fraternities. Their list of members is a veritable litany of -steins, -bergs, and -witzs.
Priceless!
Well done, mom.
Thanx for clarifying who Pincus was. Always assumed it was this one, which the pic stands in opposition to.
Look at the poor little guy at the end!
One assumes Pinkus was…how is it termed? De-scented? Or is that not an issue for non-stressed skunks?
b&
“Aromectomy” I believe is the correct word. After it’s about six weeks old you need to have this done if you are going to keep it for a pet, and then you must never return it to the wild. That was my understanding years ago when I had a juvenile skunk briefly. (I had to return it regretfully to the donor when travel and college made it impossible to keep it.)
Thanks for that! Good to know.
b&
Probably smelled something like a christian emerging after three days in a cave.
But why did the kits cross the road?
They were chasing the chickens….
b&
It’s notable that the mother has a clear perception of the danger on the road. I read somewhere that the incidence of road kill is far lower today than it was 50 years ago, and the rates don’t correlate with population changes. It appears animals have gotten better at avoiding cars.
I’ve noticed that the most successful animals do the “run for it & don’t look back” method of crossing the road. I’ve seen squirrels and chipmunks (which look hilarious with their little tails in the air) do this. The ones that are the worst seem to be possums (who stop and growl at the car – I think I had to completely stop my car once for a silly possum) & racoons who seem to panic & want to run back which is always fatal. I always stop my car completely if I see deer cross my path…there are always more following. Every time, I’ve done this & every time I’ve been lucky to avoid hitting them which is good for me too since sometimes I’ve been in a little convertible when this has occurred.
On a dark country road last Friday, I luckily saw a mom racoon with a bunch of babies dawdling across the road well in advance so I could slow down. The last baby in the line looked at right at my car with a bit of fear. Luckily no one was behind me.
You make me think of an alternate explanation: it may not be that animals are getting better. Maybe humans are getting more careful and concerned about animals?
Or maybe it’s a combination of both.
Sounds like you have quite a lot of wildlife where you live. Where I am there are mostly cattle and jackrabbits, with occasional deer or skunks.
I once had a near miss with a deer. I was traveling 70 mph when a deer burst out of the brush to my right at full speed, leaping in front of my car. It must have crossed my path 10 feet in front of me, close enough that its body and extended legs filled my entire windshield. No time to brake, I made an instinctive slight swerve toward the deer’s rear, and it was just enough that I missed the hind hooves by inches. The most memorable image I had of that creature as I sped past were the black hooves in the air exactly at the corner of my hood near the left front fender, and then passing by quickly in a blur just a foot or two outside my side window. There was no sound of contact, and I couldn’t believe I had actually missed it. The timing was so close it appeared as if my car had passed through it’s hind legs; I think the image was still on my retina as I zipped through the spot where the deer had just been.
Deer running out in front of me terrify me! You were lucky it seems! When I drove through Quebec once it was Moose rut time. I did see a small one grazing not far off from the side of the road. I saw a lot of these signs which amused me – it says “the animals are not always on the signs! Moose will kill you if you collide with them. It’s very dire!
I’m a bastard, I killed Bambi!
I’m a train driver and on some sections of line we can go at 100mph. At that speed, when a deer runs out in front of you (and it happens), you have no chance to stop the train before you’ve hit it. They always come off worst but they can do a lot of damage to the equipment slung under the train.
One dark night in Germany on our way home traveling up the small climbing road through the woods to reach the town we lived in at the top of the hill, we hit a deer that suddenly appeared in our head lights. Our fairly new ’74 Chevy Vega didn’t take the encounter too well.
We were worried because Germany takes wild life management very seriously, so we immediately limped home and told our landlord the whole story. He was very pleased. He went back out to the scene and retrieved the deer. That weekend he prepared a feast for a large group of friends and family.
I think that prey species would consider any open space as something to be crossed as quickly as possible. Roads are just the newest version of that.
Last week I saw a crow pecking at something on the road ahead of me. As I got closer I saw that it was a snake that I took for road kill. I drove past, putting the crow to flight and saw in the rear view mirror the snake come alive and head for the grass on the shoulder.
Possibly an example of natural selection at work. The ones that are inclined to dawdle get killed off before they have a chance to breed, and the fast ones survive to bring more into the world. The quick and the dead. I’ve seen the same thing on unfenced Highland roads in Scotland, where the sheep are far less inclined to run in front of my car now than they were 40 years ago.
I went outside a few weeks ago and saw a mother skunk with three little ones pretty close to the house. Naturally she wanted to move away, but it took her a very long time. She would grab each baby by the scruff with her teeth and drag it a bit, move herself, turn around, and repeat.
On a sadder note, both for us and the skunk in question, we found a dead skunk right next to our shed. No idea what killed it, but it’s always an unpleasant experience to be reminded what decay smells like, and how little time it takes to begin. I ended up digging a huge hole with my backhoe and burying it.
For several years a mother skunk raised babes under an old barn. Our dog did not bother them. One day a little skunk got lost and looked so cute and pitiful. I asked Daddy if I could have it for a pet. He said no, and told me this story. One year during the depression, he had a total income of $375. Skunk hides were selling for $3.75 and he trapped, skinned and sold 100 skunk hides. He said he wanted nothing more to do with skunks.
Saw a show on pet skunks on TV. There are a number of color varieties. There is a skunk lady who does pet skunk rescue. She had more than 60 skunks.
Skunks are very common in the grassy suburbs of Cleveland. And while they can be a nuisance, especially if a pet gets sprayed, I’ve found them to be incredible docile animals. I suppose it comes from having such a reliable defense mechanism. Nothing much troubles them, so they tend to be easy going. One night long ago I got to within 2-3 feet of a big male before the motion detector lights popped on. He was doing a handstand and ready to fire, but I backed off quick and never got sprayed. I only needed to get about 10-15 feet away before he dropped to all fours and resumed ignoring me while digging up the lawn for grubs.
It usually does take a lot to set them off. Once I was waiting in the barn after dark, trying to find out what was coming in the cat door at night and eating the cats’ food. I heard something scuffle in and I ran over to the cat door and stomped my foot several times. When I realized whatever it was hadn’t moved, I turned on the flashlight and, well, you can guess what I was looking at. (And what was looking at me.) I really think it didn’t want to “go off” in the place where it got the nice Science Diet catfood. (No, Ben, it’s been a while since we’ve used SD. Or had outdoor cats, for that matter.)