As the days get shorter, I need to get psychologically prepared to say goodbye to some of my animal companions. We were lucky enough to have multiple encounters with a skunk this year, and I dread the day that he decides not to roam around under the cover of darkness on our patch of earth.
This Spring we noticed some dug up spots amongst our crabgrass and dandelion mix, and an occasional feed bag opened in the wee hours of the night. Then, we spotted a skunk meandering through the grass when we were out past our bedtime. We put him on our radar and were rewarded with sightings at the bird feeder, in the barn and shuffling across the yard under the light of the moon. But, we did not have a close encounter until we had a “Have a Heart” trap set to catch some feral cats that were threatening to take over our barn. Instead of catching the felines, we caught a skunk. We tiptoed up to the trap and he was most civilized as we moved the trap to the meadow and sprung him free to continue his nightly antics.
I got a bit misty eyed to see him go, and was impressed that it never crossed his mind to give us a spray. I was reminded of the good old days of my childhood, in which I pestered my mom around the clock for a squirrel monkey. She threw me a bone or two, one time arriving home with a baby skunk with its anal scent glands removed. The baby skunk was pretty adorable and, being nocturnal, could be found curled up on the davenport in the living room. We’d wake him up and enjoy his antics which included foot stomping and pretending to spray us which was the ultimate in entertainment. He’d lap up an egg or two out of our finest china and then curl up to sleep again. Then, while we were sleeping he paraded around the house, up and down the drapes , unearthing the begonias, making him less than ideal a pet, at least according to my mom. Looking back, I finally have the maturity to see that skunks were meant to be wild.
I get it that my days of hanging around with our wild skunk are waning. Soon, he will take a winter rest, not a true hibernation. He will locate a den in a mulch pile or some hole under a tree or, perhaps, dig one. Female skunks rest en masse which sounds racy however their male counterparts prefer to go it solo. After the winter, they will resume their omnivorous life eating beetles, grubs, berries, eggs, seeds, and garbage, too. Before they know it they will find a mate and bear 4-7 kits in May. The next generation will shuffle around, nose to the ground, preferring to mind their own business. If crossed, they are reluctant to spray. They will act threatened, hiss, and stamp their feet before their noxious release. If they do spray, it takes almost 10 days to replenish their supply of scent. They use it sparingly.
So, if you aren’t lucky enough to have a skunk in your own yard, pile the kids in the station wagon and head out to the outskirts of town. If it is dark, you might just see one rummaging through a leaf pile, or digging up an unsuspecting grub.
It’s hard to beat that for entertainment.