Home Handyman Meets Skunk Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

A dripping tap can drive you mad,
all day and night it goes.
My youngster is a clever lad,
attached a lengthy hose.
And, by the time the hose filled up
a new problem arose,
the cistern spills out from the top,
a faulty valve won't close.

The baby's nappy went into
the toilet's wide-mouthed drain,
was followed by a tiny shoe
and if this sounds insane,
you should have been at our house
last week when lights went dim,
the wire chewed by one lone mouse
who looked extremely grim.
And when I had reset the switch
the dog outside went crazy,
she was a pretty noisy bitch
but normally quite lazy.

A rotten stench had now appeared,
I stepped outside to see.
There found what I'd surmised and feared,
the dog was running free.
Around the house she carried on,
that horrid smell got stronger,
so from my truck I got the gun,
this could not wait much longer.

A father skunk, all black and white,
had found his way inside,
a single bulb, not too much light
was here my only guide.
The shotgun made by Remington,
12 gauge and buckshot shells,
I aimed and fired quickly then,
which did increase the smells.
The sound was dull, somewhat subdued,
six bullets brought him down.
It was a day when trouble brewed
and I was now the clown.

All lights went out, I will be frank,
I'd shot the furnace feed
that carried oil from the big tank
to heat the house in need
of winter warmth when nasty blizzards
and arctic cold snaps threaten,
one does not have to be a wizard
to know there will be frettin'
at minus twenty with no heat
and no electric power.
I was now staring at defeat
and very late the hour.

Five children huddled in one bed,
the Misses lit the cooker,
propane tanks standing in the shed,
installed by Cecil Booker.

The flash of name was just what I
required in this drama,
so in a while Cecil stopped by,
he hailed from Alabama.
We fixed the line and where it had
sprayed into the connection,
on frozen bellies worked like mad
but from that main direction
the gagging odour was too much,
the lad now took the lead,
threw up his dinner, and as such
we had an equal need.

The day was saved and we got drunk,
old Cecil stayed the night.
If you have never smelled a skunk
some lucky day you might.