So....where did this story come from (since every tale has a genesis story). Well....having been born and raised in central Pennsylvania (not in the frighteningly rural parts, but close to the capital and not terribly far from Gettysburg), I had never before heard of a family having a pet skunk. However, in West Virginia at one time, this practice was not uncommon. In fact, de-scented skunks were sold at pet stores. Whether they still are, I can't say. I just haven't yet been in the market for a skunk. *shrugging* It might happen. Who knows?
Anyway, my mother-in-law's friend Almadeen bought a de-scented skunk for her daughter, although the skunk (whose name I can't remember) immediately took to the son Ronnie and followed him around. One day, the skunk got out, and the family went out to look for him. They brought home not their pet, but an imposter, who quickly alerted them to their error. Now, granted, Cleo (husband to Almadeen) was definitely not a drunk, although from all accounts, he did not shun the bottle. Still, he is spoken of very affectionately in the elder Guz household.
But this, friends, is how the story started. Apparently, skunks as affable pets are not uncommon. While searching for an appropriate skunk picture, I found the little boy from Britain (above). Young lad has a Darnell all his own, although he admits in the related article that he originally asked for a hamster. Hmmmm...how did that not translate? (To give credit where credit is due, this picture came from The Daily Mail.)