A skunk's tale

Last month a skunk ate all my chicks except for two---that I had locked away from the rest so they wouldn't get picked on. 

Prior to this, I knew there were skunks about, as one evening my sister and I both went out to the chicken coup to gather eggs in the pitch dark because I hadn't gathered them during the day. 

I had a flashlight, and was just about to open the chicken coup door, when Bess pointed in front of us, and screamed---the worse scream you can imagine. The first thought that came into my mind was of a huge black dog that had been roaming the field. I pictured it foaming at the mouth, eating one of our goats. As we had a pack of dogs do this before, and it made a vivid groove in my mind.  I shone my flashlight looking for, "the dog."

Bess screamed more intensely, pointed with shaking fingers, unable to spit out what it was she saw. It obviously was so terrible that words would not come, only a scream of all screams. She bolted, but I stayed put, ready to bop whatever it was on the head if it came after us. Bessie screamed again, running in a terrified dance circle, trying to get me to follow her.  It was such a deadly scream I thought for sure we were both going to be eaten. 

Instead of running, I took a step in the direction of where she had pointed. Bess ensued with more screams trying to get me to understand, as she was at a loss for words, and terror could only escape her lips.

Then I saw it. Down on the ground, only a few feet away from me. The size of a large-fat cat. It actually looked very similar to one of our black cats--except it wasn't a cat.

It was a skunk, with its fluffy butt raised in my direction. 

This time I screamed in lovely unison along with Bessie, both of us running wildly. 

The poor skunk was startled as well, disoriented as both of us. I don't think they can see very well in the dark, so it bumbled around in a confused circle, just as terrified.

After sufficiently getting a safe distance away, we both stopped, coming to our senses. I flashed my light at the skunk, and watched as waddled off, confused. 

 Bess and I both began laughing hysterically, nearly as loud as our screams. 

I'm sure our neighbors must have thought us crazy. It felt like it. We laughed long and hard, and once we caught our breaths, I turned to Bess and made fun of her screams. And began laughing again, mimicking her dance of terror, and jerking screams.

More laughs. 

Then justifiably she laughed, and made fun of me not being able to understand what she was trying to communicate, horrified that I started walking in the direction of skunk. 

All in all, we got some serious screaming, and belly laughing out of the whole thing.

Though the skunk did come back. And what a greedy guts it was. It got into one of our sheds, and ate several dozen eggs that my sister had taken out of the fridge---to toss, as they were old. It also got into several other food items near the house, in addition to eating my chicks. 

At the time, I didn't have a skunk trap. I put motion light censors up, hoping it would keep it away. And also smelly salts.

But nope.

It was not deterred.

After the greedy stinker ate my chicks, I was determined it wasn't going to eat my hens.  I bought a live sunk trap, shaped like a little tube, that is supposed to keep adult skunks from spraying you when you come up to the trap. This is the trap for those interested. https://www.amazon.com/Tuff-Trap-Spray-Proof-Skunk/dp/B01EZ4GBS6/ref=pd_sbs_3/142-2362646-7760146?pd_rd_w=VCcMU&pf_rd_p=f8e24c42-8be0-4374-84aa-bb08fd897453&pf_rd_r=6HFMERZWXH5KR05QPAHD&pd_rd_r=cc65ef41-f8a0-4be9-baec-11841917ad23&pd_rd_wg=0thoy&pd_rd_i=B01EZ4GBS6&psc=1&fbclid=IwAR267PtnO5h2jJqbsdPofV7ilZN0p-Hy-nu5msjBAwAFLIJ-qyK_vu4uCAM#customerReviews

I put marshmallows, and peanut butter, and an egg at the back, set the trap where it had been trying to dig into my chicken coup.

Three days latter.

Boom.

I caught the fart!

I peered into the little holes where the door was, and its little nose scrunched up next to the hole, as if it was like, "Hey, I's in here just eating some sweets, and I would like out."

"Are you sure you're a skunk?" I asked. 

I got a flashlight and shone it into the holes.

Yep. It's eyes, and black, gray hair were very much a skunks. 

Then what to do with it?

Everyone I talked to said that it had a death sentence on its head. And I agreed, as its trespasses were very dire. It should be court-martialed for its crimes. But Bess and I concluded that there is already so much pain in the world, there has got to be grace, even for  stinky ole' skunks.

It couldn't help that it was a greedy little stinker, though I did not feel any endearing feelings for it. 

We decided to try our luck, and release it into the wild.

The problem was, the trap wasn't designed for easy opening of the trap door in order for you to get a running start, if you wanted to release it safely somewhere where it wouldn't harm anyone. 

No.

It was designed for you to place it in the river, and pretty much drown whatever was in it. 

Not so good if you didn't have the heart to do that. So I hauled the trap into the back of my sister's truck, and my sister and I both brainstormed how to safely draw the door open with a string, and tape the latch so we could pull it open, and run.

In theory everything works better. No snags. 

But reality is a different story. 

We took the skunk trap to a place uninhabited by humans, and tried raising the door with a string. But our string was too flimsy, and broke on the first try.

So then, I was like, I'll just unlatch the back and run---like a skunks at my back. 

This I did. 

Once I unlatched the back. And this I could only do, because somehow I hadn't set the trap properly. So this was a one time deal.

I ran and hopped back into the truck. 

Bess and I waited. 

And waited. Apparently, the little sinker was too scared to come out. And we couldn't leave the trap out there and come back. How would we know it had left? I wasn't going to pick that trap up unless I knew there was zero skunk in there. 

So we got out of the truck, and began tossing rocks at the other side of the trap, to get it to come out---which was a very dangerous idea, because we were so close.

And at this point, it wasn't really a very inspired idea. And neither of us were very good aims.

So much for that. 

The skunk was not coming out.

It obviously felt under attack. 

So we got in our truck, and sat, with our eyes glued on the trap.

Waiting.

It wasn't very long until it poked its little nose out of the door, and waddled out of the trap.

It unfurled is huge fluffy skunk's tail, and made its way off.

The stinker. 

Bess and I both looked at each other. Well, why didn't we just be still and waited for the fart to come out in the first place?

Lesson learned. 

I felt like a mighty warrior. We had caught the skunk, and released him without too much violence. 

I gloated about this for several days.

Yet.

About a week later, I noticed something else had began digging at my chicken pen.

Another skunk?

Dang it. 

I began setting the skunk trap nightly, adding marshmallows, and treats each evening. One morning the trap was set off, and a bunch of skunk fur was inside it, though it had managed to get out the back.

Then my cat, apparently likes marshmallows and peanut butter, because one morning I found her in the trap.  At first I really thought she was a skunk. I peered carefully into the trap, and she pressed her cat eye right next to the hole, looking very odd, her cat whiskers sticking out.

After I gave her a good talking to, I let her out. And was sure to feed the cats well in advance so they would not be tempted.

A few days later, I caught---another skunk. This skunk was not so docile. It smelled very bad. Stinker, skunk juice bad. And it was heavy, and moved around a lot in the trap. The skunk was not very thrilled.

Neither was I, because I wasn't too keen on getting sprayed if we kept our non violent approach. Plus I wouldn't be able to unlatch the back, like I had done before, because I had really secured it tight. This trap, brilliant as it was, needed some upgrades----releasing part being the most difficult. 

I picked up the trap, and it was heavy, and left a trail of stinker behind it.

I set it in the shade, wondering what to do with it as I was watering my garden. The way we had released the last skunk wasn't ideal. We had to improve on this, especially if I was going to keep catching stinker bombs---or buy a hazmat suit.

I gathered a bunch of strong bailing twine, and tied it to the trap door. Then Bess and I rummaged around the yard trying to find objects to use as a pulley so the door would slide open easily. 

We settled on a little green chair to lace the twine through.

We loaded the trap into the back of the truck, and took off into the wild places far away from humans to release the stink-maker in better place where he could not harm anyone.

And it was gassing off the whole time, so badly that it made the air feel sticky around it, and my hands and face felt polluted by its juices. 

I was not so sure this time. I knew the dangers, and this trap was not so easy to open. Plus this skunk was more aggressive than the last. Probably a male. 

Anyhow. Once we arrived at the fart-makers place of release, I realized that as I had remembered to bring scissors but forgot to get tape, to tape the lock away from the trap door. Luckily, after digging around in the truck, we found some black tape, and were able to tape the lock out of the way. Then I placed the little green chair over the trap, and laced the twine through the bars, and pulled. 

But the door would not come up. I pulled hard. 

Then I realized I had taped the latch wrong. So I redid that.

Okay. Now, I was really ready to pull the latch. Bess scooched out of the way, and I pulled the door hard, it started sliding upon, but caught on another latch. 

Crap.

I tip toed to the half open trap, and realized that the skunk was so heavy, and big, it was sitting right on top of the leaver inside, that made the latch catch on the sliding door.

I pushed on the leaver that the door was catching on---there was a lot of resistance as the skunk was obese. Then while doing that, I pulled the string hard.

The door began sliding open. 

Yes!!!! 

I pulled so hard, that the trap tipped sideways. Yikes! But I pulled again, and the door stood open on its own. I wedged the twine on some sage brush, and then ran to the truck.

Bess and I sat in the truck, waiting.

A moment later, the door of the trap slammed shut, before it could get out. Apparently it walked over the leaver inside, and made the door shut. 

I guess I  hadn't secured the string tight enough to keep the door open.

Okay.

Round three. 

Once again, I pushed the leaver keeping the door jammed shut, opened it halfway, scooched back, pulled harder, tipped the trap even more on its side, and yanked so hard the trap door just popped out of its socket.

Bam.

I ran to the truck.

Yes!

I was just happy to get the dang door open. Bess and I waited. 

It took a while, but it finally popped its head out, and just kinda stood by the trap, then it waddled, away, then circled back to about two sagebrush's length away from where it had started from.

Bess and I were not thrilled that it didn't want to go very far. 

But we ran to the trap, grabbed our gear up, and tossed it back into the truck, and watched as the little fluffy farter pretty much ran along side the road, as if to say goodbye.

 My conclusion.

I hope there are no more skunks. I have a feeling that there are baby skunks floating round. And I know that this trap won't keep them from lifting their little baby skunks tails and sending me into the land of tomato juice, and total isolation from anyone that has a nose.

There are only so many times you can tempt fate, and fart makers. I feel that...one can only outrun farts so many times before one gets farted on.

 And though they can't help that God made them into walking stink tanks, I would prefer that they find somewhere else to fart, and catch a meal. 

We don't like catching and releasing farts. 

It's a stinky business. 

Who in their right mind willingly unleashes farts out into the wild, especially when the chances of getting farted on are extremely high.

Yes. Please dear skunks. I know you like marshmallows, and eggs, and chickens, and peanut butter. But the thrill of catching you---has worn off. I no longer wish to be the mighty fart---catcher---or fart releaser.

No fart sequels.

No new fart chapters.

I need no more skunk tails, or tales.  

Let us live in an ascended world where fart makers, and those who don't wish to get farted on can live in peace. Where there is enough clean air for the both of us.