Guest Blog by Beau: Skunk Backstory

Back when I was in my twenties, I lived in Kansas out in the country. We had a house that had a bit of a crawlspace under it. One day I was inside when I heard the dogs starting to make all this racket. Naturally, I went to check it out. The dogs were barking up a storm at something in the crawlspace, so I took a peek under, and sure enough, there's a skunk sitting in there. So, after getting the dogs back, I went and got my 22-250. Crawling under the crawlspace, I aimed, shot and killed the skunk. Needless to say, there were a few things I didn't consider...

- The concussion from the gun going off in that tight crawlspace area. With the *boom* of the gun, my ears rang and hurt like hell. It'd be like putting your head in 55 gallon drum and having someone beat on it with a sledgehammer.

- Killing a skunk does exactly what you were trying to prevent -- release its stink. Immediately upon its death, I was assaulted with the unbelievable, full-on stench of the skunk. It craps out this real thick yellow stuff; it's like baby poop. It's one of those most horrendous smells you ever smelt; it immediately makes your throat constrict, and at the same time you're gagging, your eyes are burning.

To make matters worse, after this was all over, I had to go back into the crawlspace and pull out the dead body and dispose of it.

So, I have my reasons....

("Even though we're on the third floor on an apartment building..." says J.)

Yes. Even though.