Please note this instalment is the fourth in my skunk diary. I came home last night and loaded my trap again; peanut butter and raspberry jam seems to be the skunk drug of choice. Surely after having just witnessed a beloved family member almost meet his maker the skunk accomplice would not be stupid enough to enter that trap. Oh, he did. I woke at 0600 hrs to find the biggest fattest skunk in all of south London. It has ripped all the covering off the trap leaving a perfectly exposed skunk for me to remove. Oh Lord, I know I have paid you no mind in the past but I promise to start going to church and stop making fun of the Catholics... Please, please, please let me get this trap covered without incident.
As my son watched in sleepy-eyed anticipation from the kitchen window, I slowly crept up to the cage behind a towel. The skunk was so focused on trying to get out of the trap that he hardly even noticed me and I was able to cover the cage successfully. Now what? I must get him out of here. Into the Mazda Pro5 we go, in my pyjamas, bed head, morning breath and all. Hazards on and hatch up, praying to the good sweet Lord that the skunk will not get spooked and spray AND to not be pulled over by a cop. Cripes, I have no bra or underwear on for Pete's sake. That goes against all the teachings of my mother and my mother's mother; always wear clean underwear...I picture myself in the slammer with no panties and the Animal Rights Activists circling my cell like sharks.
It was almost daylight, time was of an essence. I search for a new drop off point and chose a spot even further than earlier that morning, this one on the side of White Oak Road out in the middle of no where. The road had been blocked by road construction so I could go no further. Huh, maybe the skunk will meet a cement roller soon. This skunk was more cautious than the others... when he left the trap it was slow and deliberate, nose in the air, sniffing wildly. I was able to get a good look at him. It was huge- definitely an older wiser skunk. Perhaps the family monarch? It waddled out and was uncertain where to go; the grasses were very long along the gravel shoulder and formed a barrier of sorts. It stood there uncertain but when he turned his head and noticed me slowly backing away he was surprised, did a little jump and scurried off into the grass into the ditch. Phew....one more down, how many more to go?
P.S. For the price of $16 (an excellent value I think) I got my king-sized 'killing pool' at Wal-Mart this morning. It has wheels and a locking lid. Hey, if you’re going to meet your maker you might as well meet him in style.
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