Skunk Man

My friend Emily is a classy lady. Retired school teacher. Raised a kid on her own. Tough chick in her way.

Emily lives in a restored 1880's school house. Loves to entertain. Has fancy-ass dinner parties at her place all the time. Out on the deck, weather permitting. So she was mortified to find a family of skunks making their home under the deck this spring. How's a girl gonna have a dinner party for the finest folks in town when there's a goddamn skunk-nest under the dining room table?

I said no worries Em, I'll take care of them for ya. Now, a prudent person would have said thanks and left it at that. Not Emily.

 How will you take care of them?

Obviously, Em, I'll shoot them. They're skunks. Whadya think I'll do? Making a gracious gesture towards her  sensitivities, I offer to do it while she's out shopping or something. Bit of a seal-hugger and a whale-kisser, Emily is.

Well! Emily ain't having any of that. She's a great person. Brilliant shopper. The scarves & belts section of her dressing room has over a thousand pieces. But she's got a weakness. Animal rights. No way anybody is going to shoot these poor sweet skunks. After all, it's not their fault they made their home under the deck.

I want to say, hey wait a minute, but I shut my mouth. I offered. Let her sort this out in her own way.

So she spends three days on the phone. She's calling the animal shelter and the SPCA and friends and neighbours. Wants to find someone who will live-trap the little darlings and release them in the wilderness somewhere. Since there isn't any wilderness around here what she really means is release them closer to somebody else's deck.

Finally gets a name. "Skunkman" Herman. Lived in a trailer a couple of concessions away, at least when he wasn't living in his '76 Oldsmobile 98 (and I have to add, if you're going to spend some serious time in a car, that's not a bad choice. GM downsized the big cars the next year but the '76 was still a decent live-aboard).

Apparently Herman had cultivated a bit of a reputation for his prowess with the live traps, at least enough that two or three different people recommended him. So Emily and him strike a deal. He'll clear out the skunk family, Mamma skunk and six little ones, for a hundred bucks. Then he'll take 'em to the wilderness and set them free. I would have shot them for nothing, but Emily happily agrees to the deal.

I can't say I know Herman well but I know his brother, and I know Herman is the black sheep of a rather dark family. Old school hill-billy. The kind of guy who is convinced that indoor plumbing is just a passing fad. Pretty much an endangered species himself.

Herman sets up his trap under the deck. First night he's got the Mamma and three of the little ones. Leaves them in the trap under the deck, and sets up another cage. Gets the other three the second night. Two traps and the entire skunk family is accounted for. Collects his cash, puts the traps in the trunk of the Olds, and off he goes. Can't close the trunk because of the traps, so the skunks are up on their hind legs, looking out the back, waving bye-bye to Emily as she's waving bye-bye to them.

Skunk man drives around the corner, up the side-road half a mile, pulls over. Lifts the cages out of the trunk and lets the skunks free in the ditch.

Then he shoots them all.