There was some excitement at our house this past weekend. On Saturday early-evening, Brad and Brendan were outside, and Brendan came running back in, yelling, "We saw three skunks, Mom!" Turns out three young skunks wandered out from under our deck, just as Brad and Brendan were standing there. This turned into a discussion on how best to get the skunks OUT from under our deck (Shooting them? No...how would we see them at night...and the smell. Live trapping? No...then what would we do with them...and the smell. Loud music? Bright lights? DNR? Yes... definitely talk to the DNR.) Well, we weren't able to get around to it because the next day at the same time, out popped a little skunk. Brad saw it, grabbed his gun (not actually with the intention of shooting it) and headed outside. The kids and I watched from the window. One little skunk explored our deck, then hopped into the grass. Then out popped another little skunk. And then another. AND THEN ANOTHER! Sheesh! Four little skunks, having a little skunk party under our deck. Slightly scary with little (loud) kids and several local outdoor dogs and cats around. They were actually pretty cute to watch. They pounced on each other and played a lot like puppies do. My camera was clicking away, when, BOOM! No more four little skunks. Turns out Brad (who was definitely not planning on shooting one or two little skunks), couldn't pass up four little skunks. Unfortunately, one of the bb's ricocheted off a rock and hit our porch sliding door. Now, as Brendan reminds us many, MANY times a day, "It's a good thing Dad got those skunks. It's a bad thing he broke the window."
One little skunk.
Two little skunks.
Two little skunks.
Three little skunks.
One shattered porch sliding door. (Thank goodness for double-paned glass!)
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