In my backyard, there are two distinct factions: The animals, and the people who hate them. I am a member of the latter. I'm currently engaged in an ongoing battle with the groundhogs, but while trying to catch all those varmints, I've accidentally caught two skunks. In a hav-a-hart trap.
Which means they don't die.
Which means you either have to let them out, or kill them. I have no way to kill the skunks without getting close to them. So I let them go, because I'd rather not have a) a guilty conscience or b)smelly dead skunk carcass rotting in a cage that I'd like to use again. As a result of my mercy, they don't leave my property. That's mostly why I was pleased to find a new treat on my lawn over the weekend. Someone (I like to think God) had taken care of what I wouldn't.
I took the liberty of moving the remains into the hole where the groundhogs live. I'm not sure what will happen there. I imagine a scene of shock and horror as the good 'lil hogs return home from a hard day pillaging to find a skunk carcass blocking their front door. At that point, they pack up and leave, never to return.
Or they relocate inside the house, change the locks and leave me to die.
Not this guy though:
He's been relocated to greener pastures elsewhere. Or at least as long as it takes until he finds his way back.