The Polecat

     These things always seem to happen in the middle of the night. 

     This particular time, I was well asleep, as I normally am, when the dogs began kicking off. You well know the difference between a "There's a person" and "There's something damn interesting" bark. We've learnt this by now, as the dogs don't bark unless there's something.

    Pio, of course, races for the outside lights and his gun, but on listening, I realised it was indeed an "There's something damn interesting". Much to Pio's horror, I opened the gate to go check, torch in hand. Barefoot, as usual. 

    As I opened the door, there was a literal stampede. The dogs charged inside as if Hell Hounds were on their tail, which then made me slightly apprehensive. My first thought was "Snake", as by now, they seem to have learned (touch wood) to stay away from the slithering creatures. 

    I went out anyway, torch in hand, hearing a racket of some sort. There was fierce scratching and spitting coming from under old Beasty, my faithful old Toyota, and I bent to peek under it. 

     I think I moved just as fast as the dogs had at that point. This little polecat, about the size of Bear's head, had the ability to put every dog on the run. He was kicking up dirt and spitting like a demon under the bakkie. 

    Sadly, seeing the black and white, my uneducated brain told me it was a skunk, which caused plenty of hilarity on Facebook when all my friends pointed out to me that we do not have skunks in Namibia. I've now learnt that we indeed do not have skunks here, and that it was a polecat. 

    Nevertheless, I ran. He was a scary little bugger. The dogs remained inside for the rest of the night, while the little monster no doubt made his way to safety during the course of the night.