A skunk in the night

I like to sleep with the window open.

Maria doesn't.

Now that she's in Jonesboro and I'm here, I can indulge myself and enjoy all of the fresh air I want until we move into our new house in Arkansas.

But I discovered early this morning, there can be a downside to "fresh" air.

I found myself drifting up into consciousness from a dream of a skunk loose in the house, spraying the walls, floor and furniture with his potent defensive weapon of mass repulsion. Crossing the line from dream into reality, I realized a real live skunk had apparently felt threatened somewhere very near the south side of my house.

We live in a small rural community of about 1,500 on the south edge of town. We can sit in our hot tub on quiet evenings and hear cattle mooing and the occasional yipping and barking of coyotes. And we've occasionally caught a whiff of skunk on the night air.

But this was full-bore in-your-face skunk stench, so potent and concentrated that olefactory nerves can't adjust to minimize its impact. Every breath was a fresh assault on the nervous system.

So there was nothing to do but reach over and close the window. Mercifully, that did the trick. The smell faded and I was able to slide back into sleep, thankful it wasn't one of my dogs that took the hit.

I noticed there was no barking from their kennels in the kitchen during this episode. Since their sense of smell is about 1,000 times more acute than mine, I can only conclude they knew this was a passerby best ignored.