It’s day fifty-nine of my residency here in Toronto, and the heat has come. Right this second the weather channel claims that it’s 31 degrees and feels like 38. If we had “feels like” in Vancouver, it’s news to me. I am too new at this to mind–I like heat, and since our house has AC I can get out of it whenever I like.
It was all very idyllic and summery, despite the slight risk of getting stench-bombed. But by the time I’d taken a few pictures, I’d realized Stinky was actually trapped down there, and trying to reach the rocks so he could get out.
And, you know. OMG. Skunk! I thought: am I really going to do anything about this?
Apparently I am that much of an idiot. I mooched a board from the construction site across the street and risked being made a toxic waste dump to lay it out for the little dude. It was too short. But the construction guys were so nice! They brought me an enormous two-by-four, and watched me set it up for him, and didn’t once put out a “We’re waiting for the physical comedy punchline where you get sprayed” vibe.
After we’d made the improvised bridge, we gave the little guy some privacy. He didn’t seem all that bright, but I figured that at least he had a chance, now, to get out of the water. I sure hope he does, because if I walk past there tomorrow and see his wee floating body, I’ll start pondering whether I need to carry elbow-length leather weasel-wrangling gloves in my writing kit. And probably also cry.
In the meantime, hurrah–I didn’t get sprayed.