Monday I came home to the wonderful odor of skunk permeating through the house. No big deal. I’ve lived in Conshohocken for 10 years now, and one thing you get used to is the smell of skunks in the fall. Yes, the smell gets into your clothes. Yes, you get complaints about the smell from your co-workers and the homeless, but it generally isn’t that bad.
This wasn’t a general situation.
Last night I came home to find my neighbor Gloria freaking out because of the smell that lingered 36 hours later. I can’t say that I blame her – her co-workers smelled skunk, as did the people sitting next to her on the train. (Febreeze Gloria!) Anyway, I figured I’d take a run through the estate to see if I could find anything. I didn’t expect to find the dead skunk underneath the deck. My parents have owned a house for almost 40 years and maybe a dead rabbit or mouse, but this city boy was not prepared for dead skunk. What to do about the dead skunk? Fortunately my neighbor’s landlord is a little more handy than I am when dealing with roadkill. He scooped, I bagged, he drove it to a dumpster (I need to get him a nice Christmas gift).
Anyway, 60 hours later, still kind of stinky in the house. I’d like to go under the house and seal the hole the skunks get into, but there’s no promise there aren’t two more hanging out in there with their buddy the possum (I’m not kidding – you’d think I live in the country). So on Saturday comes the trappers to capture and relocate the skunk(s). (Don’t ask me if they kill them – I’m told no, but I’m not sure I believe it).
See what happens when you can’t find something write about – it crawls right into your lap.