In a forest full of chubby-cheeked squirrels, Patches the Skunk felt like a stripey shadow who didn’t quite belong. He wished his cheeks puffed out like tiny pillows instead of carrying a scent that whooshed through the woods. Even the breeze seemed to wrinkle its nose at him.
If he had cheeks like a squirrel, he believed he could fit in. Instead, he was only a skunk. No one liked skunks because of their rotten smells. He whisked his black-and-white tail behind him and tried to stay positive, but he had a hard time accepting himself for who he was.
Although he knew his scent was unwelcome, he didn’t think he smelled any worse than the other wild animals—unless he sprayed on purpose. Sometimes he had to just let it out. Other times, he slipped and tripped right into his own spray.
Patches tried everything to keep his tail under control. He wrapped it around his paws and held it as still as he could, squinting with all his might. But the more he concentrated, the more it twitched. A tiny butterfly landed gently on the tip—and poof! a little stink cloud escaped. Patches sighed as the butterfly wobbled away in a dizzy zigzag. Even when he tried his hardest, his scent always seemed to sneak out.
“Always spreading your scent,” Pipsqueak the Prairie Dog said, holding his nose.
“I have to get you a bottle of perfume,” Minky the Mink said as she fluffed her coat.
“If I had chubby cheeks like a boy squirrel,” Patches said, hanging his head, “then I could find my own girl squirrel. Maybe nobody would make fun of me for smelling.”
There was one girl squirrel he admired for a long time—Nibbles. Patches adored her blue eyes and brown coat, but he was too embarrassed to speak to her. His smell carried for yards, and Nibbles always hurried away before he could say a word.
“Why does he have to be so smelly?” she said one day, rushing past him. Over his shoulder, Patches saw Nibbles receiving flowers from another squirrel boy. His heart dropped. He knew he had to do something now.
“Maybe she could just pretend I’m a squirrel instead of a skunk,” he said. “I could dye my fur brown. Or wear a disguise!”
Before he gathered the flowers, Patches experimented with every disguise he could dream up. First, he rolled in mud to make his fur look brown, but the mud slid off in gloopy clumps. Then he taped a fluffy squirrel tail to his own, but it drooped sadly to the ground. He even tried a leafy wig and an acorn hat, but the leaves itched terribly, and the acorn kept falling over his eyes. No matter how hard he tried, Patches couldn’t pretend to be anything other than a skunk. Then he picked a bouquet for Nibbles. It was now or never.
He tied flowers to his tail just in case they would cover his scent.
“I’ll just hope I don’t smell anything other than the flowers,” he whispered to himself.
Nibbles was collecting nuts, her cheeks growing rounder and rounder, almost ready to burst. Patches thought they were the cutest cheeks he’d ever seen.
“Darling, these flowers are for you,” Patches said shyly. “You have the cutest chubby cheeks.”
But suddenly, the bouquet wilted from his scent. In all his excitement, he sprayed himself. The flowers tied to his tail drooped. Patches froze in embarrassment.
He wanted to give up. Maybe she would never like him.
“Chubby cheeks!” Nibbles gasped. “Umm…thank you. These are the nicest flowers I’ve ever received. All the boy squirrels think I’m overweight.”
Patches blinked. Nibbles had her own worries, too.
If he could smell himself, then she surely could—but she didn’t run. Right then and there, Patches decided to speak to her without hiding a thing. The real him would have to be enough.
“What nonsense!” Patches said. “You’re beautiful just the way you are. I love your chubby cheeks!”
“I love you exactly the way you are, too,” Nibbles said, smiling from ear to ear.
From behind a tree, Pipsqueak and Minky peeked out, watching the happy couple disappear into the forest.
Pipsqueak pinched his nose with both paws while Minky waved a tiny bottle of perfume in the air. But even as a gentle stink cloud drifted their way, both of them grinned.
Patches the Skunk and Nibbles the Squirrel lived happily ever after in the forest. He brought her flowers every day, even on the days he sprayed by accident.
And whenever Patches let out his scent—which happened often—Nibbles simply held her nose, giggled, and kissed his cheek. All because love smelled sweeter than flowers.
Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters
LOGLINE
When a lonely skunk who hates his own smell falls in love with a chubby-cheeked squirrel, he tries disguises, flowers, and anything he can to fit in—until he learns that being loved starts with being himself.
PITCH
Patches the Skunk longs to fit in with the chubby-cheeked squirrels of the forest, especially Nibbles, the squirrel he secretly adores. But his strong smell keeps everyone—especially Nibbles—running away. When Patches sees another squirrel give Nibbles flowers, he decides he must change himself to win her attention. He tries disguises, mud, fake squirrel tails, and sweet-smelling flowers, but everything falls apart when his scent wilts his bouquet and exposes his tricks. Just as Patches is about to give up, Nibbles reveals she has insecurities of her own. Speaking to her honestly at last, Patches discovers she likes him exactly as he is, and the two begin an unlikely forest romance—stink clouds, chubby cheeks, and all.
