The last thing I expected to see when I opened the front door to our apartment was one of these guys running away:
Yikes! What a shock. What was he doing in our well-traveled pathway at ten in the morning? I began to grow nervous.
It’s not that I don’t think they’re cute. They are– little puffy black body with a funny little stripe down the back. Adorable.
It’s the smell that kills me.
A few moths ago I wrote of the stench and how much I abhor it. That hasn’t changed with time. It’s only strengthened as I’ve continued to smell the foul odor over and over and over again in this forsaken town.
The last thing I want is for one of them to take up permanent residency in our front bushes. What if I had scared him by the simple act of opening my door? What if he had thought me an enemy? They may look innocent, like little friendly neighborhood quadrupeds. But I’m on to them. Our front welcome mat does not extend to anything that smells like that.