Adventures with Wildlife

So the really funny part about this is that just the night before, Himself was saying we were lucky we’d never caught a skunk.

We have a bit of a squirrel issue, you see.  The same birdseed which attracts that pesky flock of turkeys and more than fifty other species of birds to our yard is also an irresistable draw for red and gray squirrels, which are cute for a few minutes until they empty the feeders, at which point they become annoying.  Then the red ones get into the walls and ceilings of the house, which is super annoying.  

So a few years ago we put out a couple of live traps and began an annual Squirrel Relocation Program wherein we capture the squirrels from our yard and set them free in our friends’ yards in Camden.

(Just kidding.) 

This has been a fairly successful undertaking, so as soon as enough snow melted we put out the traps for the season and that’s when Himself said what he did about skunks.  Which was, as I mentioned, the funny part.

Ha ha ha.

We discovered our skunk at 5.30 on Thursday morning.  Thursday being the day I leave the house at 6.30 a.m. and return at 7.30 p.m.  The skunk was, therefore, Himself’s problem.

Himself used the Google and learned that it is theoretically possible to transport and release a live skunk without triggering its defense mechanism:

• First, one needs to sneak up to the trap and cover it up with something opaque which one doesn’t mind possibly having to throw away.  The theory is, if the skunk can’t see anything, it will not become alarmed.  
• I cannot help but be reminded vaguely of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal.  

• Next one should carefully and gently place the covered trap in one’s vehicle and carefully and gently drive to the release site.
• This is where Himself ran into a leetle bit of trouble.  A noisy, bouncy ride in the back of a pickup truck – I have recently remarked upon this spring’s epic frost heaves and potholes – was clearly not to our skunk’s liking.

• Once at the release site, one should carefully and gently place the covered trap on the ground, and – standing quietly and as still as possible – slowly open the door, whereupon the skunk will eventually (they are shy and retiring creatures by nature) amble out, blink a few times in the sunlight, snuffle about briefly and then toddle off to live happily ever after.  
• Our skunk was not shy and retiring at this point, and the capacity to stand still and quietly while a pissed-off skunk erupts from a live trap is not, we find, something my husband possesses.  

I would give anything to have had pictures of this.

Anyhoo, aside from a slight lingering odor in the truck, no lasting effects were suffered.  The skunk is, I trust, enjoying its new digs over on Bald Mountain.

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming….