A few days ago I got a call from the President of an upscale condominium complex home owners association. She explained to me that a skunk had been killed on the road in front of their complex and now they had 3 baby skunks wondering their grounds, and she was in a panic to have them removed. I was able to make the service call that evening. I met the President and she showed me where she had last seen the little kits going behind the parking area.
I quickly found them making their way along a small rocky path in full view of about 10 units above me, and noticed a small crowd now gathering on their balconies watching me. Now I thought, “I better not screw this up”. For some reason, I thought I might look more impressive if I casually sat down and filled out the service agreement. So I did, and while looking at my folder the crew of skunks decided to come check me out. Before, I knew it they were right on top of me and one had just crawled over my leg. Well… crud... I sat frozen for a moment and then slowly grabbed my hand net (the kind fly fishermen use) and simultaneously tilted my bucket over… and wouldn’t you know 2 kits basically walked into my 5 gallon bucket with very little coaxing. I lifted the bucket and then stood up, still shaking like a dog trying to poop a peach seed.
Enter the applause… I look up to see all of the residents standing on their balconies clapping for me. I felt a strange mixture of excitement and stupidity. After a failed search for the 3rd kit, I set a couple traps and hurried home as my in-laws were visiting from Florida.
Over a late dinner I told the tale to my visiting in-laws. (Mother/Father in-law and Sister In-law, her husband and two kids.) My father in-law declares up that I must be “Crocodile Dundee”. Everyone laughed and the title stuck for the evening.
The next morning we decided to take the in-laws into town for lunch, so we loaded the crew into our van and “Croc Dundee” drove. Along the way we passed this same complex to I decided to swing in and check my trap… in a shameful attempt to impress the relatives. Whep… sure enough I had kit #3. Apparently, I was so drunk on my own arrogance I decided I was going to just pick up the trap and take it with me. Did I mention this was a 5x5, swing door, Comstock, with no cover?
As I approach my van all eyes were on me, and this time the in-laws were there to see my awesome display of manliness. Ten feet from the van, I see a lady walking a small dog (a Chihuahua) quickly approaching me and at this point the dog starts barking. This is bad… She was approaching from my left and I was carrying the trap in my left hand. In a stroke of brilliance, I decide to switch the trap to my right hand to gain some separation between Pepe Jr. and Mr. Chihuahua. As I look down Pepe Jr. is in the ready position. I barely get out the words, “Ma’am please…” …dog lunges… and Pepe Jr. gives a full load to my right leg. Did I mention I was wearing shorts? … now I finish… “Ma’am, please stay back I am carrying a skunk”. She says, “Sorry about my… WOW… that little thing really stinks”… I reply, “Yes, Ma’am it sure does.”
I put the little guy in my plastic tote, and told my in-laws I would have to drop them off for lunch and come back to get them all. It was quite humbling listing to all the gaging, talk of puking, and the stink eye from my wife, as I drove the road of shame to the restaurant. As we approached the restaurant, my father-in-law says…”I don’t think you are, Croc Dundee”… you are… “Skunk Dundee”. I am afraid this new title might stick.
Ahhh… a day in the life.
