Our foxhound Annabelle fought a mink recently. I was there. Minks emit a musk which is reminiscent of, though less potent than, skunk spray. Elizabeth said I stank of it when I came in – and I never got within ten feet of the fast-moving fighters (I sought, vainly, to break it up). I felt like a witness splattered with blood, wrongly accused.
Happily, the mink escaped into the brush pile to fight another day.
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