The Varmint Kong - The Epic Invasion of the Black and White

So, You're Saying They're Immune to Ammonia Now?

When a couple discovers they have a child on the way, be it one baby (normal amount) or three babies (Holy Christ!!! amount), a certain drive immediately arises to prepare the cave for the upcoming litter.  Little things like cleaning up the garage, tidying up the storage area, and sorting out the area under the stairs, (where you are planning on hoarding thousands upon thousands of diapers) are natural places to start.  These are things a couple plans on.  Some of these tasks invariably fall to the man of the house, and this account seems to fall under that category.

Something a couple doesn't plan on is a skunk invasion.  For some weeks, a local skunk militia has been testing our borders, seeing how far they can push their way into our turf.  FOUR of these disgusting little bastards went as far as burrowing under my front steps and setting up some sort of bunker.  This aggression will not stand....man.

Maybe they saw the SUV that has obviously never even been down an alley, or maybe they noticed the girlish hands of an office rat (McRae calls hands like these "gunfighters", but who is kidding who?), or maybe they even thought that with Pookie pregnant I had found some new respect for life, but for some reason these vermin thought they had a family of softies on their hands.  Whatever the reason for their unfounded confidence, these skunks were messing with the wrong hillbillies.

Ammonia is a known skunk repellent.  Knowing this, but not having any, I deduced that bleach was every bit as good.  If bleach is good, and drain cleaner is sorta bleach, why not pound half a gallon of each down the burrow?  Apparently, bleach and drain cleaner aren't any better for roommates that they are for skunks, and we may have burned Dusty's lungs.  He rubbed some dirt on it and walked it off.

The second plan was to lure them out.  They had gotten so used to the ammonia they were just dragging it out onto the yard anyway.  Plus, Dusty was huffing the stuff out of garbage bags and I had to hide it in the crawlspace.  My plan was to eat a tin of smoked oysters (which were lovely), leave the oil in the can and place the can in the yard.  When the skunks smelled my tasty and Omega-3 rich snack, they would walk through a one-way door, lock themselves out of their fort, and be forced to beat it out of here.  Naturally, some jerk's cat licked the oil out of the can three minutes after I went back in the house. 

Plan C was to nail down some serious chicken wire with eight inch spikes, pour ammonia down the burrow, and pray that I didn't have to dig in there and get them once they starved to death and started to smell like my Dad's golf sandals.  Victory people, victory.

The front yard might look like Cousin Eddie's place from the Vacation movies, but those little bastards are evicted, and I am down to one ill-smelling roommate.  I am now positive that the skunks were either already out when I closed off the bunker, or it takes more than a week to starve a skunk.  Regardless, mission accomplished.  No need to call a guy to come and trap them for you, all you need are a gallon of ammonia, a gallon of bleach, half a bottle of that really nasty drain cleaner they only sell at Home Depot, two rolls of fencing wire, wire cutters, a wood barrier with a one-way door, twelve cinder blocks, forty-five eight inch steel spikes,three weeks of your time, a total disregard for the life of a family of wild animals (and our neighbourhood groundwater) and you can solve this problem on your own.

Fatherhood might be a little tricky with three simultaneous screamers, but they sure as shit aren't going to have any company in the yard.

I promised a few people a summary of the battle with the Varmint Kong, and there it is.  When something new with Pookie and the Triplets comes up, I will be sure to post again, for now everyone but the skunks are doing great, and we should have more good news soon.