I’m not sure what country boys think about skunks in their yard. But for a city boy like me, it’s unnerving.
I grew up in Southern California and Phoenix, smack dab in the middle of the city. I know how the city works. I don’t know how things work outside of urban areas.
In my head, living in the country is one of those romanticized ideas that makes you long for a place where it’s quiet and open and peaceful. I saw my first fireflies in Franklin, Tennessee a couple of years ago and wanted to move there. Before that, the only fireflies I’ve ever seen were in the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland near our house, made of fiber optics in the dark.
But I’m sure country living is not all like calendar photos and Thomas Kinkade paintings.
I’m guessing they have skunks.
We’ve been in our current city house for about 15 years. It’s near a large regional park that has a few creatures that sometimes wander into our neighborhood. We’ve had raccoons come through our little yard, an occasional possum, and saw a harmless snake on our deck a while back. (I’m OK with snakes, since I lived in Arizona for so long.) We’ve had coyotes in our driveway a few times.
But this was our first skunk encounter.
About 9:00 one night I saw movement outside the sliding glass door in our bedroom. We have some landscape lighting, and I could tell right away it was a skunk. So I did what any city boy would do:
I locked the door.
It didn’t take long to realize that skunks can’t open doors whether they were locked or not. But it made me feel a little better.
The skunk was digging up grubs in our lawn for his dinner. But it was also tearing up our lawn in the process. Day after day, the lawn was getting thinner and thinner, while the skunk was getting fatter and fatter.
I didn’t know anything about skunk removal, but it didn’t sound like a process that would turn out well. My friend, Paul had a cage trap he would loan me. But not knowing how to do it, I figured I had to a) catch the skunk, b) carry the trap out to my truck, and c) release it in the woods a few miles away.
It was the “b” part that concerned me. I was dreading the process, and kept putting it off. But the longer I waited, the worse my fear became – as well as my lawn.
Finally, I realized that I couldn’t wait any longer – so I just had to face it. I checked the internet for skunk removal ideas, and found some ideas that looked promising. My wife and I talked through the options, then decided on which ones might work:
- We borrowed Paul’s trap and set it on a board on the grass – so the skunk couldn’t tear up the grass under the trap.
- We covered the board with a large tarp, then wrapped the tarp over the top.
- Skunks like peanut butter sandwiches (seriously?). I smeared peanut butter over half of a Kaiser roll.
- We inserted the snack, set the trap, then wrapped it all up (except the opening).
- Skunks are terribly nearsighted, and won’t spray until they can see their target. The tarp is supposed to keep them from seeing you and spraying you while they’re being carried.
- Once they’re caught, you’re supposed to walk up to the trap very quietly, finish wrapping the tarp around the cage, then talk with a quiet, soothing voice. (I’m picturing someone writing that on the internet, then laughing hysterically at all the people they knew were being sprayed after reading their advice.)
Sure enough, we heard the trap go off about 9:30 PM. Early the next morning, my wife and I gently wrapped the cage with the tarp, spoke soothingly to our guest and carried him slowly to the truck in front of the house. I drove carefully, knowing how the person behind me would feel if I hit a bump and a skunk bounced out toward them.
Paul met me near his house and rode with me to the drop-off point. We lifted the tarp-covered cage and set it down, then pulled the door open. It took a few seconds for the skunk to emerge, sniff the air a few times and scamper off to meet new friends.
We survived. My first thought was, “Well, that wasn’t so bad.” In fact, it was pretty energizing to know I had done something that seemed so challenging and it worked.
I realized that the dread of what could have happened was far worse than the actual encounter. Sure, we might have gotten sprayed – and we would have dealt with it. But if I had known how simple the process was, I would have taken action a lot earlier.
That’s true with a lot of things in life, isn’t it? An unpleasant situation comes up that we know we need to deal with, but it’s hard or scary or risky. Maybe it’s a tough conversation we need to have – and we know it could turn toxic. The longer we wait to deal with it, the harder it gets. We put it off, but it gets bigger and bigger in our minds.
———————————-
I learned something from my skunk encounter: When something seems difficult, it’s best to start solving it quickly.
It’s called a “bias for action.” My default setting is to think about hard situations, trying to figure out a solution so I don’t fail. I don’t start taking action until I’ve figured out exactly what needs to happen – which takes forever.
My wife says I tend to think about things until the cows come home.
I haven’t seen any cows in our yard. Ever. A skunk, but not cows.
The quickest path to a solution is to start working on the problem right away. When I do, the solutions begin to appear one step at a time. Clarity comes from action.
It’s not natural, but it’s something I’ve been learning the past couple of years.
What’s your tendency – to think first and procrastinate, or to jump in and figure it out?