I killed a skunk once, in the winter. Big mistake. When they die, the last thing they do is wreak revenge.... so to speak (sorry for the pun). The upstairs neighbor and his toddler son, came outside, wincing and frowning. The neighbors down the street were coming out of their houses and looking around, while sniffing the air. I waved, nodded and grimaced. Oh, it was terrible. The skunk squirted out a yellow puddle of liquid, whose smell hit me in the face, like a bag of freshly minced garlic. It burned my skin and my nose and it did not even get on me.
While the neighbors were lighting their torches and sharpening the pitchforks (presumably, while they waited for the tar and feathers to get ready), I took a couple of deep breaths (the last for a while) and grabbed a shovel.
I buried the skunk in the frozen garden soil, as deep as I could dig, as fast as I could. I covered it with about 6 inches of soil and that got rid of the smell really well!!! Not deep but time was of the essence (again, sorry).
Well, 4 months go by. Spring is in the air and I pull my truck into the parking area, behind the house I was renting. I am assaulted by a very familiar smell. My eyes begin to water.
There are skunk parts all... over... the... yard.
The landlord is standing in the garden wearing coveralls (thank God).
He is standing behind a rototiller. I exit the truck and enter an invisible fog of an unimaginable stench.
He is frowning deeply. He asks "Did you know there was a skunk buried in the garden?"
Me, sheepishly, "Yeah. I buried it there."
"Well you buried it none too deep!!!"
I had forgotten about it until that moment.
He said detergent got the oil off and vinegar got out the smell pretty good. He threw the hat away. There was no saving that. The garden smelled like skunk for the rest of the time I lived there. It was ground in? (Sorry some more)
