House of Skunk

As we age it is inevitable that we turn into our parents. (Sorry, kids.) I often looked at my mother and thought that it wouldn't be so bad. Yeah, she had some annoying habits, but basically she was independent and kept her faculties till the last 6 months of her life. But, lately I've been seeing some of my father creeping out. You can call me John. When I was growing up we always had a bird feeder outside the kitchen window. Living just down the street from the Metro Parks interesting birds at our feeder was a common sight, but we also had squirrels. The war constantly waged between my dad and the squirrels. We went through a series of squirrel-proof bird feeders, "special" bird seed, greased poles, and finally a Charlie Chip can mounted on the pole . That seemed to work the best. But those pesky critters eventually found a way around even that. One of my last memories of Dad watching birds was him sitting by the window, the screen up about two inches, and a BB gun aimed at the bird feeder. Obviously the squirrels had driven him round the bend. I, on the other hand, while I don't like the squirrels realize that they gotta eat, too. So I spend tons of money on "bird" seed, fill the feeder, and turn my back to the litttle cardinals waiting in the wings till the squirrels finish feasting. It's just the way it is. I learned from Dad, give up the war, you won't win. However, now I am staging another type of war and I have no choice except to win. Last week Chuck and I awakened at two AM to the distinct aroma of skunk. Burying our noses under the covers we went back to sleep, figuring it would be gone in the morning. Uh, no. It was worse in the morning. The whole house stunk of skunk. We finally decided that he had set up housekeeping under the front steps. I talked to an expert from the Science and Nature Center and she advised me to make him uncomfortable. That means make it wet, noisy, and light. So two days ago I hung bells from the handrail of the steps and they hang right over the opening. He has to touch them when he goes in and out. But he's still there. Yesterday I put the radio in the basement next to the outside wall, set it on 107 and vacated the house before Led Zeppelin drove me over the edge. Today, he is still here. I can smell him from my recliner in the living room. Next I'll be slipping the hose in there and flooding him out. If that doesn't work... well, don't be alarmed if you come over and the front screen door is open just a tad and you catch a glint of steel poking out. I guess one man's squirrel is another man's skunk.