I am not exactly sure how this blog thing started, other
than over the last few years I found a little stress relief by writing things
down that happened to me at work, and some of my family surprised me by being
entertained by these things, and, well, now some of the things I wrote down
that didn’t get deleted now can get saved on the internet here. A naturally quiet and humble person, I generally
have only recorded instances which make me look awesome. To be truthful, stuff happens to me far more
regularly which reveals to the average bystander what an awkward and clumsy
person I usually am. For example, that
time about three years ago when I got called out to a hit-by-car bobcat down by
the DMV. (This isn’t the point of this story,
I am only using this as an intro to the thing that happened to me today which
will once again clarify to you that I am not as awesome as I think I am.)
Bobcats occur with great frequency in my jurisdiction, but
when they are found hit by a car, for some reason local law enforcement thinks
it is a big enough deal that they should have a couple of squad cars roll up
and secure the scene until someone like me can show up with a trash bag. I do
this, and in the space of three seconds I am able to trip over a curb, step in
dog shit, and go elbows-deep into bobcat guts with both arms. The two deputies on scene see this, and
remain quiet. I say, “Awesome. What else can possibly go wrong for me today.”
And the older one of the two, bless his soul, says, “Buddy, in this line of
work, never ask yourself that question again.” And I look over at the two guys,
and neither of them are even chuckling.
I knew today was going to go a bit like that day when I pulled
a message of the animal shelter machine when I got to work about a skunk with
his leg caught in a plastic rat trap in some guy’s yard. I get to the yard, and saw that the rat trap
had been tied to a tree because the guy who set it told me he was tired of the
rats not being killed right away and dragging off his traps. We had some conversation about more humane
ways to control his rat population, including maybe cleaning up the mountain of
bird seed scattered about his outdoor canary cages, and then I traced the
string through his bushes and through his fence into the neighbor’s yard where
this poor skunk was still hung up and twisted around in the bushes. Sweet. So I go into the neighbor’s yard with a
blanket and a cat carrier and a trace of optimism that the skunk’s leg is not
broken, that it isn’t completely compromised by dehydration, and see three
things: one, the skunk is healthy, its leg is not broken. Two, the skunk is completely surrounded by
sharp, spiky brush. Three- the skunk
sees me.
There is no way around this one. I can fool with my blanket all day long but
it is not going to be an effective foil against this animal’s defense
mechanism. I suck it up, reach into the shrub with the blanket in one hand to
immobilize the skunk and catch maybe a mist of the spray on a small part of the
blanket, and catch pretty much five full blasts on my arms, shirt, and pants
while I unspring the trap and watch the little fellow trot away into some Birds
of Paradise. It’s now 7:45 a.m. I am on till 16:30. I reek like what you think
I reek like, and I am all out of Skunk Off in my supply section of my truck and
that shit is worthless anyway.
So I drive a block down to the beach; a good sand &
saltwater scrub will take care of my arms, at least. I pass a group of fit, attractive women on
the beach doing some yoga class as I make my way from the train tracks down to
the sand and hear more than a few of them say “eww.” Then I trip over the berm
of sand I didn’t see and fall onto my knees and arms. I get up and manage my way another fifty feet
to the shore break, standing on the wet sand waiting for some wash to come in
so I can get my hands wet. It comes in. Up to my shins. I think about when the
steel toes in my boots will rust out as I scrub my arms with wet sand, trudge
past the snickering yoga girls, and get back into my truck.
I reek of skunk as I type this; some of it is emanating from
my boots in my bedroom, a good portion of it I managed to aerosolize throughout
the house by throwing my uniform into the washing machine; mostly it is still
coming off my arms, even after the beach bath and a thirty minute shower.
