Living in Mystic right on the estuary we have the opportunity to see many wild animals such as cranes, herons, osprey, cormorants and even occasional seals. One wild animal I see quite often though is a skunk that lives on the river bank by the Mystic Art Association. Every night it makes it’s way from it’s burrow across Water Street, up the Mystic River Press driveway, across our parking lot, up the rock cliff to the street the Historical Society (in Mystic’s original school building) is on. Later it comes back down the cliff looking for grubs and checks the dumpster. It continues across our parking lot and checks for food left at the Mystic River Press (for a pair of cats they have adopted) then heads on back across Water Street to the river.
I know his routine after many late evening breaks watching him. He usually makes his way up to the Historical Society around 2am and his return is between 3 and 4 am. Of course not being a clock watcher he is sometimes early or late, but usually he keeps a pretty routine schedule.
Just now (11:30pm) I was down reading a magazine and sitting on the stone “wall” – all of 18” tall – where the Mystic River Press building’s parking lot and garden drops down to the sidewalk in our parking area. As I was reading and finishing my cigarette I heard some leaves rustle just behind me. I thought at first it was one of the two cats as they are usually somewhat active about this time at night, I turned to look and reached out to pet the cat and discovered that it was not a cat, but the skunk. Not only was it the skunk but it was a scant 18 inches from my outstretched hand. He was obviously obsessed with catching a tasty bug until I turned, but he saw me at about the same time I recognized him for what he was. I withdrew my arm and slowly got off the wall into a crouch and duck walked slowly back away from him as he stamped his feet and watched me very carefully. Once I was about five feet away I ran another ten or fifteen feet for good measure. It wasn’t until I started to run that he moved at all, when he did it was back down towards Water Street at a full waddling run.
I don’t know who was more scared in the end, what scared me most was the idea of waking my wife and son with the unmistakable smell of skunk to get a bathtub full of tomato juice from the store.