Wealthy and Broke

A skunk got into the barn. We trapped it and Jill and I took it to the creek in her hitch and with a rope tied to the cage and lowered it into the water.

If we had let it alone it would have eaten the animal's food, probably bred and then there would be more skunks to deal with. If we had let it loose nearby it would have come back. If we had driven it far and let it loose it would have been in an unfamiliar territory and it would have probably been killed by another animal anyway. So it had to be done and Jill did it.

A few days ago we were visiting another farm and I helped a young man lift a deer from the back of his Volkswagan Golf and put it into the freezer next to another, smaller deer. He lived on the farm in a teepee and helped with the livestock in exchange for meals and the land. He kills the animals with a bow and arrow and then tans the hides with brains and sumach.

Sean has also been saving skins. So looking at this beautiful animal, of course I thought to skin it. I don't know much about it, but if they could do it, why not I. And I'd have to start somewhere. And if I didn't it would go to waste anyway. So I had to try.

I read that tying it up in and leaving it in a stream with running water for a day would help remove any scent left over, and I researched where the scent glands were so I could carefully avoid them.

The weather has been grim. Always spitting, windy and dark. I set off at 5 today to fetch the skunk from the running creek. It was still where I had tied it but the creek had risen a foot and it was harder to reach and untie my knot. The water was running more rapidly, and when I grabbed the skunk it had stiffened with its paws up near its face. I lowered it onto the grass and untied its feet, and began cutting into the skin from the inside of the backleg. It felt more appropriate to skin it there, surrounded by trees, rushes and the creek. I removed the scent glands and threw the carcass for a wild animal to feast on. The animal was beautiful. It was easier than I thought. But kind of shameful to cut around the eyes, releasing the skin from the head and leaving the small beast naked. I'd have rather cut off its head and butchered the muscle into strips to roast on the fire.

On our initiative we're slitting the throats of three old laying hens this weekend. I feel more prepared for the first life I'll have to personally take. I have processed chickens before, but never killed. It will be interesting.

It dawned on me the other day that I will never have much money. I will always be scraping my pennies together. I'll have holes in my socks and experience little glamour. My childrens' clothes will be patched and we'll have no time for television. But we will never go hungry and never have idle hands. We'll have to work for our firewood but we will have warmth.

My writing might be more indepth were I not so tired. We are roasting by the fire; reading novels and how-to books on self-sufficiency; dogs snoring and kitten playing.