Tony was a Skunk
I got mom to write this week’s post. She always says she wished she had asked questions of her parents and written things down. I had heard the basics of this story many times. This isn’t a very important story in our family genealogy, but it needed to be told:
Tony started out as a baby skunk. He didn’t stink as he was too young for his scent glands to function. I named him Tony because Mom gave me Tony Home Permanents to curl my straight hair. The formula that makes curls happen smells kind of bad, and it reminded me of the skunk smell.
His mom was shot when found living in Dad’s work shop. But when the babies got hungry they cried and were found – they were too cute and helpless. Dad told me he would not have shot the mother skunk if he had known her babies were under the air-compressor. Dad was worried about working in the same building with a wild skunk. He had lost his sense of smell so could not tell if he got sprayed until he got home and someone told him he stunk.
Dad gave me and two cousins each a baby skunk for pets. These little guys did not have their eyes open yet and required bottle feeding (I had a baby doll bottle I used, but as Tony got older, he chewed the rubber nipple off and we had to find a new bottle several times), until he was old enough for solid foods.
He was really excited when he got a raw egg one of Mom’s chickens laid. When he was young, the egg was too big and he would wrestle with it trying to get a tooth to break the shell. I helped him after a few minutes by making a small crack. It got easier as he grew bigger, stronger, and smarter … it was easier to break the shell, but he still worked at getting a good grip on the egg … it would never stay still! He straddled the egg and held it with front and rear legs and then tried to bite it to break the shell. When the egg broke, he would wade into the mess he had made and start licking up the egg white and yolk. He was very happy!
You knew he was upset when he started stomping his feet! Tony would raise his tail, stomp his front feet thus clicking his long (for digging up worms, etc.) paw nails on hard surfaces and then turn his rear half at us, he didn’t know his scent glands had been removed. He went through all the motions a wild skunk would do.
Tony loved to run through the yard grass and poke his nose at bugs or just sniff around. I would let him out of his cage occasionally and watch him looking around. He was always very busy in the grass and made it hard to photograph him.
Dad built a big elevated (about 3 feet above ground with a flip up lid) outdoor house for him which was at the fence next to the area the chickens were allowed to foraged free for bugs, seeds, etc., and he lived all of his adult life in it. I piled grass clippings in his sleeping area, and he would make a nice nest to curl up in. Or maybe an old bath-towel to keep him warmer. Big bowl of water in his outdoor open play area (screened sides) where he would also be fed the eggs and appropriate food for skunks (like big grasshoppers and crickets when I could find them). He basically ate what the cats ate.
I went to college at Univ. of Southwest Louisiana (now called Univ. of Louisiana, Lafayette. Mom and my brother, Ray, took over caring for Tony as I lived at a dormitory far away from home.
Tony lived a long time. Mom asked me if I wanted to let him go. He had never been a wild skunk and I wasn’t sure instinct would be enough to keep him safe. And, he didn’t have the natural weapon all skunks have (scent glands). To me he could not defend himself, and would not be able to escape larger predators. We did not let him go. Years later he died a natural death in his cage. Ray thinks he lived about 10 years. Wild animals don’t make good pets. We saved Tony’s life but he missed out on having a natural life in the wild.