I love seeing wildlife in the neighborhood.

The day just brightens immediately whenever I see antelope in a nearby field as I drive by, or deer wander over the yards and nibble on landscaping. Squirrels bounding along the ground or scaling trees could contently entertain me for hours. My early morning drive to work will be suddenly blessed with their ghostly appearance in the periphery of the headlights. They are the most endearing treasures of Montana.

And I firmly believe that if man's civilization is going to encroach into natural habitat, then it's okay for animals to encroach into our habitat.  Turn around is fair play.

Just be ready for the possibilities.

This early morning as I drove along listening to Ground Zero and the metaphysical implications of Trump, a small animal appeared just in range of the headlights. Some cat, I thought, and slowed down a little.

Then I recognized the black and white pattern on the back as it lumber-loped on the road in front of me, going in the same direction as me!

Oh Sh@%#%^%&%$@&!!!

Moving just too fast and thinking much too slow, I drove my car right over the skunk. I feared the heartbreaking bump that meant the animal was crunched under a tire.

That didn't happen.

Just to be sure, I drove a little ways, turned around with high beams and soon found it crossing the street and into some brush.  No harm came to it.

Satisfactorily turning around again to continue the commute, other thoughts came to me:

Did it spray the car?

How do you clean the skunk smell from the undercarriage of a car?

Tomato juice??