Warning: If you love woodland creatures and the thought of their somewhat gruesome death makes you uneasy, you aren’t going to want to read this.
For the rest of us: two days now the Family Skunk has “taunted” us and we have now located their home base. Mama Skunk got the spring on me last night, but tonight was different. While doing some yardwork, Hubby nonchalantly drove his pickup to the north side of our property, grabbed the shotgun(because that’s inside the pickup anyway…obviously) and blasted Mama and there seemed to be other movement, so shot both sides of the grass next to her for good measure. When he went in to investigate it turns out, it wasn’t mama, it was three babies!
He took the old red tractor, Moon, and gave them a proper burial, while keeping an eye out for Mama…still no Mama.
Since there was gunfire just a few yards from the baby chicks, I told Hubby that I was going to go make sure they didn’t all die of heart attacks and make sure they have food, water, fill up their sandbox, and give them a little grief counseling. At this point Hubby decided chicken run or no chicken run that skunk-haven was going down! He pulled out a push lawn mower and was going to take out the tall-grassed oasis once and for all!
As I sat in the chicken coop watching baby chicks scratch at the sand, peck at their crumbles, and try out their newly feathering wings, I heard Hubby pushing the lawnmower through the thick grass. It was groaning and sputtering through the through the tall grass and then winding up again when it chewed through the patch adequately. Then all of the sudden there was a CHUG! It sounded like Hubby hit a tree stump? Rock? Grass too thick to mow? Then I hear: “Oh no!” and then in a semi-triumphant, somewhat horrified tone “ I got one!”
“One what?” I needed clarification.
“Was it Alive???”
“Kinda. It isn’t now.”
The death tally at the end of the day was four half-grown skunks, and a baby rabbit(apparently woodland creatures REALLY like where I wanted to put the chicken run). The executive decision was made to leave the murder-mower outside to air out.
I’m fully expecting Mama skunk to come on a vengeance-fueled rampage through my yard in response to Hubby’s merciless attack, but maybe we’ll just be skunk-free and the chicks can live in somewhat peace…
…that is until butcher day.