My eight-year-old grandson was over here playing Scrabble this afternoon; we let him use the Scrabble dictionary to look for words because it’s good for his vocabulary, and when I walked in he had just played the word zoril (and was winning handily). Not knowing the word, I looked it up in Webster’s Third New International and discovered that it was either a striped muishond or a North African muishond related to the striped muishond. This was not a great help, so I looked up muishond and learned that it was “either of two southern African weasels that are black with white stripes and that emit a fetid odor when disturbed.” All right then! But the interesting thing is that both odd-looking names are perfectly transparent when you know their etymologies; zoril, more commonly zorilla, is from a diminutive of Spanish zorro ‘fox,’ and muishond (pronounced /ˈmeɪs(h)ɔnt/ “MACE-haunt” because it’s Afrikaans in origin, from “transferred and spec. uses of Dutch muishond weasel, stoat”) is literally “mouse-hound”—in fact, the OED sends you to a separate entry mouse-hunt “An animal that hunts mice; spec. a weasel, a small stoat,” an earlier borrowing from Dutch (< muus mouse n. + hont dog; apparently altered after hunt) that goes back to the fifteenth century and was used by Shakespeare (“Moth: I you haue beene a mouse hunt in your time”).