I put the garbage can in the garage and dropped an egg down into the can. When the sweet thing (notice how the words describing the skunk are softening) just looked at me and did not tap a warning. This gave me the desire to pick it up. Still with gloved hand and old clothes I leaned over the trash can and slowly picked “pepe” up (as I tucked its tail under its dangerous end). It was adorable, it sniffed, cuddled, and I think it smiled (I was in love).
The next day, late in the afternoon, I drove it up into the hills behind our place. I put the garbage can on its side and little Pepe (or Priscilla = I wasn't about to check the business end to find out) walked out. But, instead of racing off into the wild (well, semi-wild) it turned and ran toward me. I kept turning it around as I tried to shoo it off. It was then that I heard male laughter coming from the sky. Was God laughing at me? I mean, I know he has a great sense of humor after all He did make this beautiful animal with its odiferous defense system. OK, it wasn’t God, but two linemen hanging from a pole with a perfect view of my dilemma.
After, I finally ran the juvenile off I jumped into my car and headed home. I reset the trap, donated another egg, and placed it under my house after all it takes two to argue.
I heard the trap go off that night. So, thinking that I was now the GREAT ANIMAL HANDLER I went out to do a replay before going to work. That way I could get this one up to where I released the first one and they could hook up.
I repeated the procedure (even though I noted that this one was a bit larger). But, (AND HERE IT COMES) this one had other ideas. Just as I tripped the door it flipped its hind end up and LET ME HAVE IT (and it was a full load).
I had never been sprayed before and had I known just how nasty it could be I may have allowed the massacre to happen earlier on my front lawn. While retching I slammed home the trash can and its lid. I called work to tell them what had happened and then called my mother to bring me TONS of tomato juice (which was a remedy my boss suggested).
I took my clothes off in the back yard, ran (el fresco) to the bathtub filled with tomato juice and scrubbed myself raw from head to toe. Then I repeated the procedure with scented soap and shampoo.
Thinking myself odor free I headed for work that afternoon. I no sooner cleared the door and walked in than EVERYONE stood up, pointed to the door and uttered, “OUT!” (apparently my smeller was burned out by the experience). Luckily it was Friday and I had all weekend to burry my clothes and lounge around in tomato juice (and various other concoctions my friends suggested ----by phone).
Both the trash can and occupant was unceremoniously dumped from my car as I drove BY the place I had deposited the sweet one. The lid popped off as it rolled down a small embankment. Success, mission accompolished. Two animals saved. Cost: A new trash can, 4 eggs, jeans, shoes, underwear, tomato juice (20 large cans), shampoo, rinse, assorted other remedies, and a burned out nose (all-in-all about $50!). (100% TRUE)