Turf Wars

For the last couple of days my house has smelled of skunk. I thought perhaps a transient was smoking weed in my attic. After realizing the idiocy of that thought, I came to the conclusion that a skunk was calling the underbelly of my front deck its home.

So when I heard a rustle on the front porch last night, I thought to myself, "I've got you now, devil beast." But when I opened the door, there before me stood nothing more than a giant raccoon...holding my Halloween gourd. It quickly scared and retreated under the porch.

Now it is clear. My decorated porch is attracting the vermin of the neighborhood. Freshly painted gourds, ghoulishly carved pumpkins, and all the other garnishes that fall decorations provide. It's painfully obvious that a skunk is fighting a raccoon for the right to call it home.

They've had two battles thus far, which have both ended in someone or something getting sprayed. But the raccoon is becoming more daring. He's showing his face. Will the skunk stand for such insolence? I don't know. But I can tell you that I hope the skunk loses in the end. Like Lynyrd Skynyrd, I can smell that smell.