skunked!

It all started about a week ago when Ellie came into the cabin from her wanderings, emitting a slight but distinct “eau de skunk.” We tried to ignore it for a day, and especially denying the possibility that a skunk might have taken up residence on our property.

But Ellie’s continuous trips out to the “guest house,” eagerly sniffing and pawing around pretty much told us without a doubt that we indeed had a skunk. And he had a fine access under the building: a handy hole beside a water valve at ground level.

What to do? For obvious reasons, neither of us would entertain thoughts of coaxing, pulling or trapping a skunk. So we consulted our neighbor Roy, the man with answers to most of our questions. He, a virtual expert on all things lake/northern Michigan and us, the virtual clueless city slickers.

“Skunks are nocturnal, so go out past 11 o’clock and cover the hole with rocks,” Roy said. "By then he should be out for the night, and will find a surprise when he returns."

Sensible enough. Except when Bill headed out with his flashlight at 11:15 p.m., he and Mr. Skunk spotted each other, and skunk scurried back under the guest house. That was plan A, night one.

Plan B, night two. “Skunks hate moth balls and ammonia,” said Roy. I refused to go the moth ball route. “Jam some ammonia-soaked rags into those smaller holes,” advised Roy. "Then, sprinkle some flour around the bigger hole, so you’ll know when he leaves by his footprints. Then you can cover his hole with rocks." This was sounding more like detective work to me.

Out we went last evening, about 9:30, armed with rags, ammonia, and a bowl of flour and followed Roy’s directions. Problem was, at 10:30 it started raining and we figured skunk’s trail would be tainted. So, was skunk in or out? We certainly didn’t want to trap a live skunk under the building, but if he had moved on, we certainly DID want to cover the hole. What a quandary!

This morning, day three, Roy inspects the set-up. “Let’s prop some small sticks in front of the hole. If he goes in our out, we’ll know by the sticks.”

Meanwhile, Ellie received a thorough bathing in the lake with a homemade potion of baking soda, hydrogen peroxide and soap, thanks to a recipe by Dove, our neighbor at home. Ellie smells much better. Thanks, Dove!

And now she’s lost interest in the skunk hole. So we’re left to wonder if she’s sick of detention and baths and has learned her lesson, or if the skunk has moved on to greener pastures. Bill thinks he’s gone for good.

We don’t know. But we sure feel skunked!