memories #1                                                

                                                                The Critter

     Before I entered the first grade, I used to play on the sides of the hills that surrounded Durango. Cowboys and Indians was the most popular game, but we found exploring crevices, rocks and cliffs entertaining as well.  We had no fear and had my mother known of the chances we took, she would have never let me out of the house. There were several paths along the hills that a generation of youngsters had passed along playing similar games, falling dead in the bushes or by a tree as an imaginary bullet or arrow hit us.  Part of the fun was taking an old sheet, a box of crayons and a stick to make a flag to carry as we pretended to be a cavalry unit hunting  down Indians and protecting the wild west. You can tell I grew up watching countless westerns on Saturdays at the local movie house. It was at those Saturday movies that we watched serials such as Buck Rogers and Roy Rogers etc.

                         

     One summer day while patrolling the hillside and protecting the residents of Durango, we happened upon a wild critter that scrambled

 under a rock. I was at the rear of the line and could only tell that an animal had been cornered under a ledge and a rock. I had no idea what kind of an animal it was but instinctively knew that the animal must be approached with caution. All those ahead of me were in a great deal of excitement. One of our fearless leaders was prodding with a stick trying to get the critter out. Without success, he finally let others have their try. No one was having any luck. Finally my turn came. I was the youngest of the group and the smallest too so I could get under the ledge and the rock a bit further then the rest. Without fear (only because I didn't wish the others to notice) I made my move to bring this terrible critter out into the open so all could see.

     Crawling on my belly, I carefully maneuvered under the rock began to poke. The light wasn't good but I could see slight movement. With renewed courage I continue hoping to succeed where others failed. I was going to be the hero in front of my friends. Suddenly the critter turned! I couldn't tell you what it was but I did know it turned its back to me. 

     Without warning, my face, T-shirt and upper part of my body became soaked with a foul smelling liquid. A skunk! Everyone moved away as I scrambled out from under the rock. Once out, everyone moved further away.”Pew!”, Was the only intelligible thing I heard.  

                                                                                                                                                                                 It took my mom almost a week to rid me of the smell. I took vinegar baths, tomato baths, and other remedies that might prove successful. My clothes were burned. No one would play with me. Even the family dog took refuge when I was around. My mom to this day says that occasionally she can still smell that odor on me. (Of course that’s only when she is upset with me   

     The rest of the summer went by without much other excitement. I was banned from the hillsides until school started. The dog finally forgave me, so I at least had someone to play with while my friends took on the Indians and protected the good citizens of Durango.