Yesterday, bicycling home from the post office, I found a skunk on the side of the road. It had been hit. Its eyes were caved in, entrails were everywhere, and it was very much dead when I got there. But this wasn't just any skunk. This was my skunk.

For the last two years, I have watched this skunk waddle through our yard chomping on grubs and other gooey things without a care in the world. It has let me walk up to it and watch it from a few feet away, its shiny little eyes scanning the earth for food, its little paws making passes at night crawlers and other such things—little by little, I fell in love this creature. He was fascinating.

Did you know they can live for more than 10 years?

One evening, I actually spotted him sitting next to a brown fox. Both looked at me like, "What are you looking at? Nothing weird here...keep walking, thank you very much." This has happened on more than one occasion. What do they do together? What do they "talk" about? I have no idea. But the fact that nobody is eating anybody else is cool enough for me.

Little by little, the presence of this skunk has colored (and scented) my life. In the winter, his footprints crisscross our driveway; in the evenings, the light sensor outside my bedroom window alerts me to the fact that my friend is nearby (probably rooting underneath the bird feeder); and given the scent of the barn, I think I know where this little guy lives. But—as of yesterday—my friend is no longer here.

The light sensor did not go off last night. There were no tracks in the mud today. I never knew I could get so attached to a skunk. But when you start to get to know the wildlife in your own neighborhood, it's kind of like adopting a pet...on a very long leash. You get to know them. You start to care about them. You begin to understand their personalities. And unfortunately, this skunk was pretty brazen in his confidence—thinking that his scent alone would keep predators at bay. As this meant he didn't really get out of the way for anyone, it was probably the case when a car rolled by and steamrolled the poor fellow. Too bad cars don't have a sense of smell.

So, for those of you in four-wheeled vehicles moving faster than 10 mph, please watch out for skunks...and possums...and deer...and coyotes...and squirrels...and frogs...and everything else for that matter. These little animals have friends. If you happen to hit something, it might even be kind of you to stop the car and get out to be with the dying creature. Wish him well as he makes the transition to a more ethereal state.

I hope this was so for my friend.