There I was, minding my own business, running alone in the dark, when I heard it. It was a squealing sound, and I immediately wondered what it could be. Cats? No, they make other noises, even when fighting. Squirrels? I know they make some noises, but not squeals like this. Raccoons? I don't think so; I think they do more of a guttural growl.
Then I saw them. Two skunks in the middle of the road, squealing away. I don't know what they were up to, and I don't know whether they were squealing at me or at each other. Regardless of their noises and the sight of them, I preferred to not allow this encounter to engage any of my other senses.
I didn't think this would be a problem. Usually, skunks will scurry away when I approach; I only need to not surprise them. These two were well aware of me, and they were holding their ground. I was forced to skirt around them, staying well off to the side.
A half-mile later, I encountered yet another skunk. This one didn't squeal or intimidate. But I had to wonder, did I accidentally step into an alternate universe? Or perhaps it's National Skunk Day, and I wasn't aware?
I completed the run with my dignity and honor unscathed. I think I got back up to about 80 miles for the week. But it almost killed me. ((Squeal))
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