Juicy-Juice

That's what Isabelle named the skunk that spent the day in our garage yesterday. Don't know where the name came from, but she's two, and really cute, so who can argue? I much prefer Gavin's name of Stinky Pete. Seemed much more appropriate both in physical attributes, and in actions based on the mess he made in my garage.
We must have left our garage door open a little too late on Monday night, and Stinky Pete came in to nose around. Well, we ended up trapping him in the garage for the night when we closed the door, and I discovered the after effects of his efforts to get out when I came out for my morning ride Friday. In poking through the piles of insulation to try and determine what had happened, I stumbled across Stinky Pete's tail. That's all I needed to see. Out of the garage I went!

Not wanting to spend the entire day avoiding the garage while he caught a leisurely nap in my insulation, I called the Town of Greece Animal Control for advice. They were very helpful, and told me that it is actually very difficult to get a skunk to spray. They said I should just take a broom handle and poke Stinky Pete a few times to wake him up, and he should move along. Ummmmm, nah. There is something in my internal wiring that just makes it physically impossible for me to walk up and poke a sleeping skunk with a stick. Besides, I couldn't help but think in the back of my mind that this is how Animal Control Officers have fun. Telling innocent civilians to poke skunks, and then laughing as they go back to their ham 'n cheese sandwich, knowing that I will be taking a tomato juice and vinegar bath in about 20 minutes.

Seriously, Animal Control was very nice, and agreed to come out and try and remove Stinky Pete for me. Didn't work. He tried, but just ended up spooking the little skunk further into the wall, where we didn't have anything but the "business end" to work with. We both decided it would be best to just wait him out. So, wait I did.

Mano e skunko. It was going to be a long day. I had already covered the threshold of the garage door with flour (master skunk hunters trick), so I could see Stinky Pete's tracks if he snuck out when I wasn't watching. And, at the advice of Animal Control, I constructed a nice "guiding" path to the outside to make sure he didn't do any additional exploring of the garage once he woke up. Then, it was just a waiting game.

I checked on him every hour or so, to make sure he was still tucked in snug and warm. By dinner time, Donna was even commenting that she might miss him a little when he was gone, as he was almost part of the family now. Then, once the sun was down, success! The hole in the wall was empty, and tracks leading out of the garage.

An exciting day that I don't want to repeat, with, thankfully nothing to show for it but a bag of ruined insulation, and some lasting stories.