Bold and bolder grows Miss Skunk... Tonight, yellow tom's claw in her snout did not discourage her. I made noise, generally enough to run her off, at her own pace, of course. Not tonight. One sack of trash tossed at her... Nope, she turned around. Second sack, she didn't even jump.
I called M and got his 16 year old son B. He came with a light gun, maybe a .22, I'm not sure. It made less noise than firecrackers... He popped her. Then after a long pause, he fired again. I opened the inside door, and could see she was bleeding from the mouth... dead. He was at a different angle, so could not tell. Again he fired, but I slid open the screen door slightly and let him know she was gone.
"I'm just making sure."
Well, I don't blame him there. I suggested the shovel ... then offered him a box. Into the box she went, rolling belly up as she did. Definitely female, and if not already a mother, soon to be. I gave him another, slightly larger box, and balancing her, double boxed, on the front of the four wheeler, gun on behind, the intrepid hunter withdrew from the field.
I'm wondering how many weeks it will be before I want to go sit on the bench on the front porch and read while I try to stroke the gray and orange female kitten I want to tame... Not tonight, that's for sure!