Yesterday was one of those days when I needed to connect with my sister. Parenting felt heavy, and I needed someone to listen… and offer a little advice.

When my sister finally returned my call, the sun was still shining over our backyard. I slipped outside, away from listening ears, and settled onto the picnic bench by the pool. We chatted and chatted. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed the sky growing darker if the mosquitoes hadn’t started pestering me. But I wasn’t about to let them interrupt our conversation. I just chatted and swatted.

Before I knew it, the yard was nearly dark.

That’s when a moving figure caught my eye near the gate.

Is that a skunk?

I squinted into the darkness as a quiet panic settled in. It was a skunk, all right. I recognized it by the way it hugged the ground and casually followed the edge of the yard.

A few years ago, I learned that skunks don’t see very well. Instead, they navigate by following the edges of things like fences and houses. That’s actually how we found one trapped in the window well in our front yard. (You can read about that adventure here!)

As this skunk followed the side of our house and wandered right onto our back deck, I started calculating my next move.

Should I call my husband to turn on a light? Would that scare the skunk? Could I make a run for the gate now that it had moved past me and sneak into the house through the side door? Should I freeze and hope for the best? How long was this skunk planning to hang around? And… did it bring friends?

The skunk continued on, seemingly oblivious to my existence. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that its path might soon bring it closer to me.

So I took my chance.

I bolted for the gate.

I didn’t look back until I was safely inside the house, where I finally let out the deep breath I’d been holding.

No skunk spray. Just one very relieved human.