What a Stinker!

So a while back, I posted one of my short stories on this site, titled "The Stinker" (If you're interested, click here to read the story). But to summarize, it talked about learning to coexist with skunks. One of the main characters in the story is an enlightened skunk who believes that they could more easily survive in suburban settings if they just stopped spraying, which the needed to do out in the wild to avoid being eaten, humans would be less inclined to get rid of them.

Well, here in the real world, I just learned last night that we have a skunk living in our detached garage (an old garage, with floor that's not level and that's rather old and let's say air leaky. In other words, there are plenty of places for a skunk to squeeze its way in). This morning, I learned from our neighbors (thanks for the heads up, by the way!) that it's been living there for a while.

I teach my kids about non-violence and tolerance. Yet last night, I mortified my seven year old as I heartlessly killed a poor, innocent moth that happened to fly in my field of vision in his bedroom. And this morning, I called the city to find out if they can come get rid of the skunk (incidentally, they don't do that anymore, so I'd have to go through a private company, and I've gotten all the information and just have to decide whether I want to just rent the traps or have them come take care of it).

So where's the better lesson for my kids? Until yesterday, the skunk just took up space. I presume he/she has been munching on any mice, keeping them out of our basement (and for that we should be grateful). Up until last night, there had been no sign of him, no spraying, no sightings. They are not violent, and simply use the spray when startled (like when hearing a car alarm go off). My husband came home in the evening, saw the skunk, and kept the car in the driveway. He came inside, then set off the car alarm (in case the skunk hadn't seen him, seeing as they do have rather poor eyesight), shut the garage, and stayed inside. My guess as to what happened next: the skunk freaked out (the skunk equivalent of peeing in his pants from fear) and sprayed. Only, since he was inside the garage with my minivan, guess what got the brunt of the spraying? Yeah, that was a fun drive to the school this morning (and a cold drive back home).

So, do I teach the kids tolerance and acceptance, and learn to live with the skunk (since my kids all seem to want to be vegetarian for humane reasons; my four-and-three-quarters-year-old looked at the fish I served earlier this week and said it wasn't nice to eat fish because we killed the fish (I didn't think it would help if I mentioned that I didn't personally kill the fish, since that's almost worse and a personal dilemma I face anyhow)), or do I capitalize on the repulsiveness of the odor and teach them that hypocrisy exists, even in their mom, and that you have to learn to accept people with all their flaws and foibles and inconsistencies.

Yes, I think that's a better message.