We are southbound out of Albuquerque on a mission of mercy and we are lost. This is not a good thing, since Jerry Dragoo and I are traveling with three living time bombs in the bed of his bouncy pickup. And if they blow, it will ruin an otherwise perfect New Mexico day. At least, it will ruin it for me. Dragoo, who earns his keep as a postdoc fellow at the University of New Mexico, where he runs the genetics lab of biology professor Terry Yates, couldn’t care less.
Dragoo is a mephitologist, which, loosely defined, means he’s a skunk guy. He is fascinated by the Mephitidae. Indeed, he adores the little stinkers. He studies their lineage. He keeps four as pets.
When Dragoo needs a skunk for his research, he goes into the field, spots one, chases it down, and picks it up. Literally. By the tail (no, it doesn’t hurt them). Does the animal spray? Big time. Does Dragoo care? No. Does this depress the animal, who perhaps senses that millions of years spent patiently evolving scent glands from hell have gone for naught? One would think.
Dragoo has been sprayed more times than, say, a certain president has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Early on, though, I asked him if he had a particularly odorous memory. He reflected for a moment and then recounted a time in Texas when he was in the field with his graduate adviser and some potential grad students. They were in a truck, had spotted a skunk, and planned to quietly move in on it.
