11 November

Shooting a skunk: Notes from the perfect life

by Jon Katz

 Every now and then life on a farm rears itself up and reminds you how different a world we are in here. I came back from Manchester, where I was planning my photo show for January 9 at the Redux Gallery in Dorset, Vt., and saw a big fat skunk waddling right towards Rose and Lenore who were out in the yard. Izzy was with me, and Frieda was inside in a crate, thankfully.
  Skunks are never seen much if they are healthy and this was rheumy and walking aggressively towards Rose, who was circling it and backing up. Fortunately, she obeyed the command to get off, and backed up.
  I thought of the camera, but it was in the truck and I didn’t have time.
   I grabbed my .22, loaded, aimed and caught the skunk as he was heading right towards me.
 A good clean shot between the eyes, and he fell backwards into a culvert. I do not relish shooting anything, but on a farm, it happens. Rabid raccoons, once two rabid feral cats who attacked Rose, and today, in the middle of the day, a skunk approaching two large dogs. Not healthy. It’s good every now and then to be reminded how close we are to life and death here, and a good focal point before heading to Manhattan for a few days of culture and good food.
  Nobody’s taking my rifle away.
 Perspective is everything, isn’t it?

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