I never thought I would end up with a skunk for a best friend; however, that's exactly what happened to me.

My best friend's name is "Syn".  Honest.  Not 'cause he's so bad or evil; it's just I couldn't think of anything better.  He may be a little stinker, but honestly, he's the perfect pet.

Actually, Syn is a sweetie in black-and-white striped fur (clothing).  He is very cute, as far as skunks go.  He's always doing things to make me laugh, like purring in my ear whenever he wants an extra treat, or making cute little noises just to get my attention; it's his way of saying:  "Play with me.  Now!  I'm bored!"

Syn has a perfect white stripe running along the length of his back, from the tip of his nose, all the way to the tip of his wildly bushy tail.  He waddles like a duck when he walks.  And Syn always has an inquisitive look in his small, sparkling, beady black eyes.

He doesn't miss a trick.

He sure makes for a wonderful conversation piece, especially since I have a sign in the front yard that reads:  "Beware of dog!"  LOL  Now, Syn may not be a dog, but he can stop potential burglers or would-be malficents dead in their tracks.  All they have to do is see his striped tail, and it's like: "SKUNK!", and the people take off for the hills, running faster than a cheetah in a race.

Perfect crime deterrent.  Yes, that's my Syn!

I like my little furry friend because he's about the only friend I have.  In school, I am not exactly Mister Popular.  I tend to be a rather bookish fellow, keeping to myself.  I have always been rather shy; making friends has always been difficult for me.  I'm also not that handsome, not with my red, wildly curly hair that goes off in ten million different directions, thick-lensed glasses, or pimple-marked face.

I'm also dyslexic.  I'm in the Special Needs class at my high school, where I am often the butt of jokes. 

Syn is my saving grace.  He's the glue that keeps me from going over the edge.  If it were not for my skunky (stinky) pal, I would have probably done something drastic, like go postal.  I am more than sick of all the teasings and tauntings I have had to put up with over the years.

Syn has many different likes.  He loves apples, pears, peaches, carrots, celery sticks, crickets, or katydids.  He loves to sit on my shoulder and snuffle in my ear, or make his soft little squeaks whenever I come home from school.  When I see his fat little body coming towards me in a waddling fashion, I can't help but smile, especially after a bad day.  He follows me around like a striped dog, and sometimes, when the weather is nice, I will put him on his leash, and I will take my skunk for a walk, as if he were a dog. 

Or I put him on my bike, in the basket, and we take long rides together, where I tell him all my troubles.  He's a great listener:  he never talks back or calls me names, and he nods his little head sympathetically whenever I break down in tears (which is often, I'm afraid).

I would love to take him to church with me on Sundays, but I don't think Pastor Gilmarten would like that.  I mean, there would be nothing better than to have a skunk disrupt a service, even though he no longer has his stink glands.  He can try to spray, but nothing will happen; he's wasting his stinker bombs; doesn't he realize he can no longer spray his poison??  Silly boy!!

Well, I am going to go.  Have to sludge through math, then go to lunch, then sit through Spanish, Gym, History, and Science before I go home for the day.  Then I can get back home to my buddy, my furry, black-and-white skunk therapist who doesn't charge me a dime for his services.