Ferreting out a skunk

About a week and a half ago, my family noticed the smell of a skunk wafting up from beneath the floorboards of our home.

Now understand, it wasn’t like the skunk had suddenly done his thing underneath the house. It was more like a subtle smell that would seem to come and go.

I first thought it might be under the back deck, which is close to the area in the home we most often noticed it.

But in further checking I found the cover to the crawl space on the side of the house had been knocked down. And as I read about skunks, I found that they love to get under houses.

So I did what any brave husband and father would do to protect his family. I called animal control.

Now don’t get me wrong, the people at animal control were very nice and very helpful. They just have this rule: They don’t go under houses.

Catch the animal and get it out from under the house and they’re happy to remove it. They even offer suggestions on how to do so.

The first being go to the Feed Barn in Costa Mesa, rent a trap, bait it with some cat food and catch them. The people at the Feed Barn also advise you to cover the cage with a blanket so the person walking up to remove it doesn’t get sprayed.

“It’s always easier to put the blanket on before you catch him rather than after,” they reminded me.

However, I thought there has to be an easier way.

My first thought was to compliment the wife on her latest diet and tell her that although I couldn’t possibly fit under the crawl space that she probably could.

The reasoning was simple. If I crawl underneath that house and get bitten by that rabid skunk, I’m not playing golf this weekend.

But if my wife crawls under that house and gets bitten, I play golf early and visit her in quarantine later. In either case, she didn’t buy it.

The next step was to convince my 17-year-old niece, who was visiting from Francis, Utah, to crawl under there and get it. After all, she’s spent her entire life growing up on a farm in the country.

“Kayla, how would you like a crisp $100 bill? All you have to do is crawl under there and get that skunk out,” I said.

She smiled and seemed excited about the prospect. Her mother and aunt didn’t seem to share in the same joy.

So it was off to the Feed Barn.

Cage in tow, lessons in baiting and setting the trap. Don’t forget the blanket cover, I remembered.

It was Saturday afternoon. I put everything in place just opposite the crawl space entry. Into the cage went an open can of tuna and an old white blanket covered everything except the entry.

Now it was just a waiting game. Me and Mr. Skunk.

About three o’clock Sunday morning while laying in bed, I heard the trap slam shut.

Mission accomplished.

I know I either had the stupid skunk trapped or the Easter Bunny was somewhere he shouldn’t have been.

I sprang out of bed to see what was the matter ? whoops, wrong holiday.

I ventured into the next room and looked out the window to see that the trap had indeed been engaged.

The next morning, the call went in to animal control. Even though it was Easter, they were there promptly.

As the animal control officer stood near the cage determining her next move, she heard the skunk meow.

Now that was something new to me. I didn’t know skunks meowed.

She reminded my wife that they didn’t and proceeded to free the cat that had eaten my can of tuna.

And so the hunt continues.

“Honey, that diet is doing wonders, any chance ??”

Maybe a few days in quarantine would do me good.