And Mom, quietly calling me, trying to get me to come to her. The "spotted kitties" were spotted skunks (we called them civet cats) who lived in a pile of bricks Dad had gotten to build Mom a rock garden of some sorts. I used to play with them all the time since they were friendlier than the big tom cat that was my sisters' pet. I was probably about two and a half or three.
That cat never liked me much - when I got my tricycle I accidentally ran over his tail. Mom got him treated and the cat came home with his tail all wrapped up. When Mom took the bandages off, half his tail fell off and poor Boots was a short tailed cat from then on. I felt so guilty about that. 
Years later one of the skunks fell into one of our garbage cans while we were at school. Mom tried every veterinarian in town but none were willing to try to remove the scent glands. Mom thought it would make a good pet for me, but when the vets turned her down, Dad took a long pole, tipped over the can and let the skunk loose. Before it left the skunk vented its displeasure at being tipped out. That end of the house smelled like skunk for months and months - the first time we had ever smelled it in our yard even though the skunks had been there before us.
About the same time I was playing with the skunks, Dad built a front porch on our house, concrete with concrete steps. I tripped on the steps the first time I tried to climb them and cut my shin to the bone. I still have the scar and can remember how fascinated I was with the hard white thing in the wound. My oldest sister had gotten a "Visible Man" for Christmas and she showed me what the white thing was and explained how it made my leg work. That's why I had a good understanding of the skeletal system and internal organs before I got to kindergarten.
Edit history
Recommendations
0 members have recommended this reply (displayed in chronological order):
= new reply since forum marked as read