Evicting Stinkusaromaeous
By Darrell Pendergrass
There is a skunk living in my garage.
It would be nice to be to say there WAS a skunk living in there – as in the past tense - but that would be premature at this point. I hope to evict the skunk in short order, but as of yet I have not devised an effective plan to achieve my goal. I would have to say the skunk has been in there for about a week, judging from the amount of mayhem and mess inside. Evidently skunks thoroughly enjoy digging through garbage and tipping over tools and things.
The matter of subletting your garage to a skunk, whose Latin name is Stinkusaromaeous, brings with it a different set of challenges than other wildlife squatters. Most animals can be trapped, dispatched with a rifle, grabbed by the neck and flung out the door, herded up and driven out. Because skunks have the advantage of chemical weaponry the military tactics of an assault cannot be applied here. Stealth and trickery seem to be a more logical approach in a skunk’s extradition.
I have a live-trap inside the garage, and I’m using corn, jelly and marshmallows as bait – I’ve also implemented the universal animal attractant peanut butter in an attempt to lure the beast into the trap. I haven’t quite worked out the next step in my skunk removal logistics, but getting the skunk pinned down seems to the first order of business.
I suspected something was alive inside the garage while working on my snow blower the other day. I could hear some hissing and huffing over by where I store the lawnmower, which I knew were the sounds of general complaining; I assumed it was a squirrel. It was nothing to worry about; a squirrel? Ha!
Then I saw the black-and-white beast over by the garbage cans, sharpening its teeth on a metal file and fluffing up its tail. Its beady murderous eyes focused in on me and it lifted its hind quarters as if to say ‘back off.’ I made a hasty exit, to the say the least.
I secured the live-trap from a farmer friend who said it was a fool-proof devise. Usually fool-proof means it can’t miss, but in this instance I believe fool-proof means that even I can’t mess it up. The trap is in the garage; its yawning mouth hopefully an irresistible cavern in which the skunk will enter.
I felt a little bad for sending my 12-year-old son into the garage with the trap to get it all set up, and I even felt bad for telling him it was for a little bunny that I’d seen in there. “If you catch the bunny you can keep him.” My son didn’t seem at all scared.
Evidently urine is an accepted skunk detractor. Fox urine, raccoon urine, shark urine, and human urine work best – so the internet says. I figure I’ll give the trap a chance before trying to entice a fox to pee inside my garage. That seems logical.
One of my skunk fears, of which there are many, is that this rodent may have a litter of stink babies some where inside there. I read that baby skunks are more likely to spray than adults, which isn’t what I need - eight or nine quick-trigger spray-happy adolescent skunks.
Right now I have the radio blaring in the garage. I’m thinking that might drive the skunk out. I have the lights on, as they’re also nocturnal. But with my luck my skunk will invite other skunks over for a party.
But if I do catch the skunk in the trap, I will send my son in there to get it. He’ll find out the hard way that it isn’t a bunny.
Darrell Pendergrass lives in Grand View.