When I was in college during the 60's, a friend (Rock) and I rented a small cottage close to the college during my junior year and half of my senior year. Actually, it sat in a small valley just below a girl's dorm, but that is another story. We rented the place from a very religious woman in her 40's. In order to pay the rent she expected it to be hand delivered to her house. I think she felt we needed some spiritual guidance. So once a month my roommate, Rock and I went to pay the rent. Those visits are the basis for the story.
Our landlord had an honest to goodness real, live pet skunk. That was odd to begin with, but this skunk also had a big, pink, bald spot directly in the middle of the top of its head. We never knew it's real name, so we called it the "monk skunk". We were sort of taken aback by it the first time we met him, but the lady explained it had its musk glands removed and could not make the bad odor skunks are known for. So, a ritual developed between the skunk and us over this monthly paying of the rent.
Monk and the lady would meet us at her front door once a month. He seemed hyper active, moving in circles and sort of bouncing along as he ran. We would all go into the living room. She offered us to sit, but we preferred to stand. After we paid her the rent, she would leave the room to get us our receipt and the religious materials from church. The religious stuff was always part of this visit along with a short sermon, which we ignored. As soon as she left the room the skunk would run toward us backward with his tail bent back toward his head as though he was going to "spray" us. Rock and I would separate some and when he backed up close enough to one of us we would slide a foot under his belly and sort of kick lift him to the other one of us. As soon as he hit the floor he would assume his attack position in front of the next person and the process repeated itself with the skunk flying back and forth between us. This would go on for a few minutes. Monk could hear better than we could so he knew when the woman was coming. When he sensed she was on the way he would stop his attacks and move away from us. She would then proceed to give us a talk about living life in a better way.
When the talk was over she, Rock, the Skunk, and myself would all proceed to the front door to say good-bye. The thing I remember most about leaving was the look on the skunk's face. He had a sad look in his eyes (if skunks can look sad.) It gave me the feeling that this was the best time that little guy had since the last time we visited.