That's not a rat I smell...

We are fighting a war on two fronts: Rats to the south, Skunks to the north.

It seems like every time Buster the dog goes out by himself, he gets skunked, and we (by "we" I mean "I") am sick of washing him only to have him get skunked again the next night. Today I set a live-catch trap out on the game trail that leads from our house to Jeff's house, and baited it with a cheap can of cat food.

I'm thinking that tomorrow morning I'll go check it and either find a really angry skunk or a really embarrassed cat.