In one of my previous lives I was Supervisor of Animal Control for a mountain City in Arizona. Arriving from Texas with a teenager to raise, it was the most lucrative position I could snag with my Vet Tech (read: dog nurse) license. Veterinarians in Arizona were paying minimum wage in the 80’s.
I had limited experience with skunks but I learned quickly. Skunks were as commonplace in Prescott then as Chihuahuas are in Paris Hilton’s neighborhood today.
On my very first day, I was informed that my department was not to assist in the removal of skunks from private residences. The previous month a well meaning animal control officer had attempted to sedate a small skunk that had found itself behind the refrigerator of an understandably distraught citizen. Unfortunately, the dart was almost as large as the skunk. A messy skunk explosion ensued and the City was forced to replace wall board, some cabinetry, kitchen flooring and a side by side fridge. From that point on, skunk removal became an open invitation to private enterprise.
We did step in for certain special situations. Skunks are notorious dumpster divers. On many occasions, a City trash truck would arrive to do its duty only to find the dumpster occupied by a black and white visitor. Apparently, while the getting in is quite doable, the getting out is not so much. It became such a commonplace event in the spring that our trucks carried handmade “skunk ladders”. This contraption was little more that a long two by four with cross pieces. The ladder would be placed into the dumpster at a 45 degree angle from floor to lip, and all wise persons would vacate the area. Most skunks were smart enough to find and use the special device within a matter of minutes, although some did lollygag if they were still grocery shopping.
One other skunk situation comes to mind…still fresh in my memory after a good 30 years. A panicked mother called, reporting that a skunk was wandering willynilly in the area of a busy school bus stop. This garbage picking skunk had managed to wedge his head into a plastic Yoplait yogurt container. No doubt you have seen this type of container…the lip is smaller in circumference than the base. His head was seated securely inside, with the lip snug around his neck. He had wandered about for a good hour, walking into traffic, running into fences and walls, and at one point tripping over some brave citizen’s foot. The officer who responded spent a few minutes surveying the situation, and then did the only thing possible under the circumstances. He pulled off the yogurt cup and RAN LIKE HELL. In fact everyone (the little guy had attracted quite a bit of public attention) took cover. Mr. Skunk looked over his shoulder at his audience, seemed to express some silent gratitude, and waddled away without discharging his firearm.
Some days are diamonds and some days are stones, even for skunks and the folks who must deal with them.
