Several weeks and many baths ago, my dog discovered a black-and-white stranger crossing our lawn. Wagging vigorously and ignoring my frantic shouts, she ran up and offered her canine greeting: a nose-to-tail sniff. The encounter ended predictably, with the skunk waddling off into the dark, the dog staggering in circles, and me searching desperately through the cupboard for stink-dispelling supplies.
Skunks become conspicuous in autumn, including yards and—sadly—roads. This phenomenon is mainly due to dispersal, as young skunks that left their mothers at the end of summer are foraging in new home ranges. Residential areas may attract skunks of all ages as they consume as much food as possible and explore winter denning sites.
“They are trying to fatten up,” said Brehan Furfey, wildlife biologist and furbearer project leader for Vermont Fish & Wildlife. “Primarily, they’re eating insects, but they’ll eat other prey and some plant matter…and let’s face it, we have all kinds of goodies in our yards.” Those goodies include unsecured garbage, birdseed, and fallen apples and mice that move into sheds and woodpiles as the weather cools.
Lawns also appeal to skunks because, this time of year, they contain a smorgasbord of easily accessible beetle larvae and other grubs. In turf and other surfaces that hold impressions well, such as moss and carpets of pine needles, you may find skunk snoot holes, each about half the diameter and depth of a soda can. These are places where a skunk inserts its sensitive nose in search of prey. Other common signs of foraging are shredded rotten stumps and logs (like bears, skunks will pull apart wood to find wood-boring insects) and torn-up patches of leaf litter and soil.
Building up fat reserves is essential for skunks because they aren’t well adapted to forage in frigid temperatures or heavy snow. They will go out during thaws, but they remain in their dens during harsh winter weather and rely solely on stored calories. Females, especially, need to stock up as much fat as possible because they have limited opportunities to gain weight before giving birth in early spring. And when a mother skunk is caring for newborns, she’s likely to endure a new stretch of foodless days. “She probably has them in the burrow around April, and she’s not leaving them because they’re completely blind and [helpless],” said Furfey.
Despite their presence around homes, Furfey stressed that skunks are not aggressive, will retreat from danger, and often tolerate people walking nearby without incident. The trouble comes when they get startled. “They have poor eyesight,” said Furfey. “They don’t really see you coming.”
In addition to encouraging homeowners to minimize outside food sources, Furfey recommends blocking off potential denning sites when the skunks are not likely to be there. Sheds and porches attract skunks, she said, because they often offer more warmth and protection from predators than do natural shelters such as underground caves (skunks dig their burrows and also use those of other animals such as woodchucks), tree cavities, and hollow logs. Furfey said that when the females are raising young, skunks establish multiple dens across their home ranges, so if you block them from entering one space, you aren’t dooming them to wander outside in the cold. By preventing access to problematic denning spaces now, you can also discourage females from raising young near your home.
Furfey gets numerous requests to trap and relocate the animals, especially in spring, when young emerge from the den, and a previously tolerant homeowner discovers that “one skunk became five skunks.” She always declines these requests, as trapping and relocating wildlife is illegal. Instead, in addition to preventative measures, she recommends patience when homeowners encounter skunk families. “They’re going to move on,” she said. “Give it a week.”
I’m pleased to report that we haven’t had additional skunk sightings at our house. Now, before we let the dog out at night, we take a precautionary sniff and make a flashlight sweep of the yard. And if all else fails, there’s a crate with baking soda, a bottle of lemon juice, and dish soap stowed close to the bathtub.
Elise Tillinghast is the past executive director and editor of the Center for Northern Woodlands Education and is currently editor-at-large for Nature and the Environment at Brandeis University Press. Illustration by Adelaide Murphy Tyrol. The Outside Story is assigned and edited by Northern Woodlands magazine and sponsored by the Wellborn Ecology Fund of New Hampshire Charitable Foundation: nhcf.org.
