Skunk war dispatch the third, in which the skunk's treachery is revealed

The wire mesh we installed at the outset of the Great Skunk War of 2009 has proven impermeable to skunkenkind long enough that I decided to take the next step. The main reason that we didn't want skunks under our front porch was that the crawlspace under the porch extends under the bathroom off the kitchen. This leaves the pipes under the bathroom exposed to freezing temperatures in the winter, which is no good. I planned to install some sort of insulating barrier between space under the bathroom and the rest of the porch crawlspace, but I didn't want any offers of assistance or whatnot from any skunk who happened to be dwelling in the crawlspace at the time.

I figured that if we blocked off the crawlspace with wire mesh, either the skunk wouldn't be able to get in, or he wouldn't be able to get out. After a few months of no skunk traffic, it would be safe to enter the crawlspace. "At least if I have to fight the skunk," I thought, "he'll be dead, which should give me enough of an edge to secure victory."

I started by making a pair of plunge cuts with a jigsaw in the porch floor. After some vigorous prying, I got the boards up. Fortunately, no skunks, dead or otherwise, leapt up to assail me when I removed the boards.

I was surprised to see that the insulating wall that I was planning on building at the end of the porch had already been constructed. However, closer inspection showed that Merle, or one of his skunken brethren, had burrowed under the wall at one end, allowing cold air into the space under the bathroom. This is where the extent of Merle's treachery became apparent. All the hours I had spent last winter pouring hot water down the drain, stuffing insulation into cracks, and aiming Sharon's hair dryer into the gaps behind the shower plumbing were lost to a problem caused by this worthy adversary.

But overall, this is a pretty desirable outcome. I can plug the hole easily enough, and adding insulation to a wall is a lot easier than building the wall in the first place. (This isn't actually true for most walls, but under a porch, where appearance is of no importance, you can just pile on layers.)

I framed in the opening with 2 x 4's and strapped the planks together with some plywood scraps.

Despite my best efforts to reassemble the planks into a panel of the same length as the hole they came out of, the hatch stood about an eighth of an inch proud when I was done. A few minutes with a block plane solved that.

It's at this point I have to admit that I haven't really finished the job. I made up the panel as the sun was going down, and that was mostly motivated by the horror of what would happen if I left the hole exposed at night-- some skunk liberation front would probably invade, pack the place with stinkbombs triggered by cellphones, or something like that.

In any case, the northwestern front is still secure, but the insulation will have to wait for another day.

Humans 1, Skunks 0

We have survived our First Battle of Bull Run here at 57 Chandler. The anti-skunk battlements that we installed recently held up to an assault by a determined adversary. As can be seen in the picture below, a sapper has attempted to burrow through the wire mesh; the effort met with failure.

Opening salvo in the Great Skunk War of 2009

Our house in Somerville has two porches that serve as barracks for at least two skunks.

Today, Sharon and I fired the first salvo, using a piece of chicken wire (AKA "hardware cloth") to prevent Merle (the commander-in-chief of the skunk army) from tunneling under the lattice work under the front porch.

Historic photos from the trench warfare occurring at the northern front have reached Flickr.

Update: As of the next morning, the fortifications had not been breached! However, there was a whiff of skunk in the front hall for a few minutes. It may be that we have misjudged which side of enemy lines we were on, or more specifically, which side the enemy was on.