Skunk and Badger
Skunk and Badger
The first time Badger saw Skunk, he thought, puny, and shut the front door.
Badger didn’t normally shut the door on animals that knocked. But there was too much slick in this one’s stripe, too much puff in his tail. Also, there’d been that grin, and the way he’d stuck out his paw as if he had been looking forward to meeting Badger for a long, long time.
Badger knew what to make of that. He shut the door before the fellow got any ideas. “Not. Buying. Anything,” he said through the keyhole.
When the knocking continued, Badger added, “Ever.”
Then he drew the bolt.
And the double bolt.
And latched the chain.
Badger, an amateur rock scientist, has been living alone in Aunt Lulu’s brownstone for the past three years. Set in his ways and content with his solitary life, he is unnerved when friendly, outgoing Skunk knocks on his door announcing that Aunt Lulu is allowing him to move in as well. (It is possible that Badger has ignored some of Aunt Lulu’s recent correspondence.) So begins the adventures of this extremely odd couple. Badger is emotionally clueless that his loud rock tumbler might be annoying to Skunk or that his new roommate would prefer an actual bedroom to a closet. Likewise, the ever-bubbly Skunk can’t understand why Badger would want to keep an entire room full of empty boxes or why he objects when hundreds of noisy chickens appear for a sleepover. When their differences come to a boil, Badger shouts, “Vermin!” prompting Skunk (and the chickens) to quickly move out. Only then does Badger begin to realize how much he misses his strange new roommate.
Timberlake’s slyly humorous story of friendship and misunderstandings is reminiscent in tone of both Winnie the Pooh and Wallace and Gromit. The writing is clever and perceptive (think Kate DiCamillo), and Timberlake never writes down to her audience. Each character is well-developed with his own appeal. Badger is appreciative of Skunk’s delicious meals and willing to do the dishes afterward, but, when pushed too far, he’s been known to explode. And Skunk, grateful to have a place to live (because, really, no one wants to room with a skunk), sometimes forgets that not everyone thrives on the chaos that energizes him. In short, both are kind, a quality sometimes in short supply these days. Klassen’s charming black and white drawings appear throughout the text, serving to break up the chapters, capture the characters’ personalities, and highlight the story’s key events.
The first of a proposed series, Skunk and Badger should have wide appeal for families looking for a multi-age appropriate bedtime read aloud as well as young readers searching for a first, solo chapter book experience.
Kay Weisman is a former youth services librarian at West Vancouver Memorial Library.