Even More

When we last left Snarky, she had just forced her gun safety conscious son to kill two whole skunks.  Skunks that had taken up residence on her farm and created an all you can eat buffet in her chicken coop.

And now… the rest of the story.

Later that day, after I had written the blog, The Pastor came home.  I relayed the story about the Skunks and told The Pastor that he was in no way allowed to get mad at Second Son for shooting his gun in the shed, into the garbage can, or in my chicken coop.

The Pastor was reasonable and did not get mad.

Relieved that all of the skunk drama was over, I went outside to do chores.  While I was in the barn scooping up grain for the chickens, I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye.  Something dark that seemed to slip into the floor.

“Well, that’s weird.” I thought.

Just to be safe, I went back inside and got The Pastor.  And his gun.

We walked back into the barn and looked at the floor.  There was a crack in the floor because groundhogs have been tunneling under it for years.  There was also a hole in that crack for the groundhogs to get in and out of.

Groundhogs are tough.  Concrete means nothing to groundhogs.

We didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“You go put your chickens away and I’ll keep looking.” The Pastor suggested.

That was a big relief to me because I was pretty much wildlifed out.  I like wildlife, I had just already had more than my share of encounters for the day.

I walked out to the chicken coop.

All of the birds were hanging out outside of the coop.

This should have been my first sign that something was wrong.  My birds love to go to bed at night and sometimes tuck themselves in shortly after noon.  It’s like we’re soul mates.

“Come on, ladies!  Bed time!” I sang as I jumped inside their coop with their bedtime snack.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!”

I jumped back out of the coop and screamed for The Pastor.  I’m guessing I did the screaming part really well because he appeared almost instantly.

“What’s wrong?!” he asked.

“I swear to… If I have to see one more of those things I’m going to… Would you just…”

And he did just.  With one shot, even.

That made three skunks.

In one day.

It was time to start being proactive.

I went to the place where I store cages (what, do you mean you don’t have a cage storing room?) and pulled out a large live trap.  I set it up in the barn right next to the hole.  Then I covered the trap with some old plastic table cloths so that if the skunk sprayed, it wouldn’t get all over the barn.  The Pastor’s motor cycle is parked in that barn, after all.

Now to bait the trap.  I looked at the three cats watching me.  This was going to be a tough one.  I decided to turn to an internet group.  An internet group for other farmers.  Farmers always have the answers.

Here is the question I asked.  “What can I use to bait a live trap for skunks that won’t cause me to end up trapping cats all day long?”

The answers I received ranged from “Just leave the skunks in your barn and learn to live in peace and harmony.  The skunks were there first, after all.” (nope.  The skunks are new to the neighborhood.  I was definitely here first.)   to “How dare you think about moving those poor helpless skunks from their homes!  You probably barbecue kittens for dinner, too!” and my personal favorite “That skunk could be somebody’s pet!  Have you checked it for a microchip?”

Um, no.

1. As long as skunks carry rabies and kill chickens, I am not living in peace and harmony.  I tolerate groundhogs.  I tolerate the coyotes.  I even welcome the bats.  Skunks are my one vice and they are leaving.  One way or the other.
2. Nope, not eating kittens.  But have I mentioned how delicious my bunny brats are?
3. The neighbors here love to talk about crazy.  If someone had a pet skunk, I would have heard about it a long time ago.

Here’s the thing.  I don’t mind the idea of PETA.  I am all for the ethical treatment of animals.  It’s part of why I do what I do.  But here is where it gets to be too much.  If you come to me looking for advice on dealing with your teenager, I am not going to call your morals into question and yell at you for not being christian enough.  You might not even be a christian and also… you asked for help with your child.  Not a lecture on religion. Let’s get you through your crisis before we worry about the other stuff.   In the same way, I asked for help keeping my cats out of live traps.  Not a lecture on the ethical treatment of skunks.

Frustrated, I stormed back out to the barn and decided to experiment with my own baits.  Frustrated Snarky takes matters into her own hands.  Frustrated Snarky gets things done.

Frustrated Snarky has now caught four different cats and exactly zero skunks in her live trap.  Which is interesting because we only own three cats.  One was a very angry, very wild, enormous cat that may or may not have been a bob cat.

The bobcat stays.  The bobcat is cool.  The skunks will, in the end, be leaving.  One way or another.