I received a phone call a few days ago from my daughter, Patsy Ann, who lives in La Mesa, Calif. Her husband Les is a retired Marine who was hired as a civilian to continue work in his old job as a mechanic on the Marines’ hottest jet fighter.
Leo goes to work early in the morning, and when he left that morning he left the patio door ajar. When Patsy Ann came downstairs later, a skunk was standing in the middle of her living room floor.
She called both the police department and animal control, and neither wanted anything to do with the skunk.
Patsy woke up my granddaughter and told her what was in their home. My granddaughter Sara got cat food and tried to lure the skunk outside. The skunk ran behind the TV set.
My daughter knew I was raised on a farm in Cane Branch, and thought I would know what to do, so she called me.
She knew I was once sprayed by a skunk on my way to Burdine School. I told her to open the back and front doors, and leave the house.
After they both went outside, her two cats came into the house and were chowing down on the cat food my granddaughter had put on the floor. The skunk heard them munching on the food and when the cats finished eating and left the house, the skunk followed them.
Pasty Ann then called me and told me everything was okay.
Contributing writer Everett Vanover lives in Fairfield, Calif.