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This is a story I really shouldn't tell, since it involves embarrassing myself in a terrible way.
I'm an original city girl.
When my family and I decided to move north, to the wood country in Michigan, I though I would be able to adapt to the change with little or no problem at all.
And so I did.
Until the day the Russians bombed the little town of Oscoda Michigan...

ok so yeah.
I had a big black dog, and I let her out.
And a few minutes later she came back to the door, but something was terribly amiss...
I took one look at her and saw that she was foaming from the mouth- a horrible, noxious chemical smell penetrated the air around her... Her big brown eyes had gone totally red, and were running with tears...
I started to scream...

My 3 children were terrified, as I grabbed them and put them into the car.
I backed out of the driveway and rushed to the nearest phone.
"Something terrible has happened" I told the 911 operator a few moments later.
"I think there has been a chemical leak, and my dog found it- or is it possible that we are being bombed by chemical weapons?"
I told her what my dog looked like, and smelled like.
"She's been poisoned by something!" I shouted, tears running down my face.
The calm 911 operator said "It's probably a skunk."
"NO" I shouted "I know what a skunk smells like..."

Well apparently the dead skunk you smell on the highway are a little less pungent than the ones that zap your dog up in the woods.
Needless to say when the police officer arrived at our house, he stepped one foot out of the vehicle, covered his nose with a handerkerchief, waved with other hand, while putting the foot back inside- then shouted out the window "It's a skunk." before he drove away.

Learn more about this author, Randa Morris.
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