Ralph Everett Hugus
Posted beginning 2/22/2001
On his way home from his snowmobiling odyssey to Yellowstone
One Christmas time, probably my senior year at high school, Mom and Dad had gone to a party, and left me at home alone. About nine or ten o'clock, a car pulled part way into the driveway and just sat there. The headlights shown in the window facing the house. The people sat there, watching the house for what seemed like five or ten minutes.
I watched them for a few minutes, wondering what they were up to, then stepped out the front door to confront them.
As soon as I appeared in the doorway, someone from the car hollered, "Hey, man, don't come out! There's a skunk on your porch!"
"I know how to take care of that!" Returning to the house, I got a brown paper grocery sack and opened it. Moving very slowly and calmly, I went out, laying the sack on the porch close to the skunk.
Skunks are shy enough that he crawled into it to hide. I picked up the sack, folded the top over, carried it to the car, and handed it to one of the strangers in the car.
"Will you take this down the road a couple of miles and turn it loose?"
They left, and I never did find out who they were, or why they were there.
Comments cousin Steve Hugus, "It is probably best we didn't hear the rest of this story. I'm sure it stunk!"
at Hugus Alfalfa and Arab Pintos
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