People don't believe me when I tell them I'd never seen a wild raccoon or skunk (alive, anyway) before moving to California. But it's true. When you live in a place that has nothing for miles and miles but miles and miles, the animals tend to go there instead of hanging out in, say, your yard. Imagine my surprise, then, when I was forced to stop admiring my glove-and-a-half in order to avoid being savaged to death* by a giant**, vicious*** skunk****.
There it was, just toddling along, ignoring me, all black and white and packing stink. At the transit hub near my office. Where there are lots of people and cars. Was the skunk waiting for his bus? Did he have to get to his job in the woods? Does he know the duck?
Maybe he just wanted to admire my work. I'm on the thumb gusset of the second glove now, though I think I'll end up frogging and reworking the fingers of the first. I'm surprised at how quickly these are knitting up (which I really shouldn't be because they're gloves, not a sweater)... almost as surprised as I am at the prospect of maybe having gloves to wear in time for it to be cold.
These dogs don't care about my gloves.
*maybe not **possibly the size of a guinea pig ***minding its own business ****but totally a skunk